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Post by fennel cassady sinclair on Mar 13, 2011 13:37:52 GMT -10
 speakers pulsed up-beat and synthesized dance tracks all around the room, the music had no chance bouncing off of anything for it was completely absorbed by the large student body dancing along with it. flashing lights kept you blinded and on your toes, it was hard to tell where you were standing or dancing, god only imagine if the beer goggles were on as well! smoke lingered and thickened the air, the student bar was as crazy as it always had been but it never phased ruth one bit. she was used to this scene by now, a whole year of working and training as both a cocktail waitress and bartender prepared her for what it would be like in a setting like this. ruth was even warned that it would be even worse with young students that just got the legal o.k to binge drink their little hearts out. ruth wouldn’t have it any other way though; she got paid and tipped as well! most of her tips came from the men who were extremely drunk or just trying to send the message that they wanted her. ruth knew it too, that’s why she would always doll up extra for this job. her black blouse dipped slightly in the front, her cleavage pressed perfectly together for better effect, and the length of the blouse stopped a little past her belt that kept her dark denim jeans in place. though she moved a lot behind the bar, ruth had on a pair of simple black heels that put her above (even more so, she normally stood at a staunch 5’11) a lot of heads in the club, and waving arms needing a refill. ruth was thankful that where she worked in the bar the music wasn’t as loud for all the speakers were near the dance floor and not close to her corner of the club. it was easier for her to hear orders, as well just chat with the more sober clients, which was something she always enjoyed. sometimes ruth could actually have great conversations with people as she multi-tasked and mixed drinks, or tapping out beer. it was even better that the night was winding down; more people were leaving then coming in. though a few did walk in and she sighed quietly to herself. she was hoping that people would figure out it was to late/early to drink, and she could go back to her home, get out of her heels and sleep! |
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Post by owen blake on Mar 13, 2011 16:40:37 GMT -10
It was like every other night, except that the view from the top was his joint of choice tonight. Not that he always spent the night drinking away because he could just chill with the guys, play pool, watch the dancers and anything else that caught his eye. Tonight was a night of a different sort.
Owen was slouched over the actual bar, ignoring the pulsating music as he focused his entire attention on the empty shot glass in front of him. What did that make now... four? Five? Six? He couldn't help the fact he liked his scotch neat, his tequila cold and he could still taste the licorice from the last Jag shot. He tipped the glass over and slid it to where the bar maid was, along with another crisp bill. Tipping good was his way of ensuring he got service his own way.
Then again... his blurry vision made out the gal behind the bar and he took note first of her vivid hair and her tight blouse. It was so easy for his mind to go there when it came to those beautiful curves and the alcohol had him already ripping that blouse off. Even if the vibrant hue of her hair automatically put her in the 'she-devil' category, her body more than made up for it. First things first... next shot.
He quickly cleared his throat and leaned forward to place his order. "'Nother round please!" he called out as he shifted rather drunkenly in his seat. He was still aware enough to notice that the crowd was thinning a bit, that the dancers were more concentrated and the music seemed to bounce off the walls and amplify. But eventually he was going to have to find his feet and may need help for that. "Jameson, neat."
note: hope you don't mind :)
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Post by fennel cassady sinclair on Mar 13, 2011 17:36:16 GMT -10
only a few people loomed over the bar at this point and time, the blonde girl ruth was working with was even leaning over the bar chatting with a customerit was unusual at this point an time for ruth to ever compare herself to another woman, but she was curious. sometimes she ended up with more tips, and ruth demanded herself to figure out why. ruth could serve faster than her, so the difference in customers couldn't have been it. was it the fact that that blonde seemed to be the complete opposite in stature than her? ruth scoffed. that blonde was a pirates dream, a sunken chest. a bloody thin wrist watch over an hour glass. ruth's inquiry was interrupted by a debauched slur, something comparable to "'nother round please!"
ruth stepped towards his end of the bar, to hear his complete order. "jamison, neat." he finished, and ruth immediately went to grab the whiskey. she had enjoyed it before, but it wasn't her favorite. she poured him a shot, straight up and set it on the table for him. before speaking, ruth eyed him over. he definitely was a cute one, she was sure of that. ruth always had a thing for boys with those faces with all the right angles. she couldn't see too much more of him, but she figured he was skinny on account of his broad shudders and long, lanky arms. Sometimes, Ruth could imagine her self with a man like that, and it didn't quite register. She figured because she wasn't petite, her man would be a hulking fool that would dwarf her.
ruth leaned over her half of the bar top, propping up on her two arms as she pressed herself against the bar. She of course had her eye on that nice little tip he had laid out, but ruth knew she could probably squeeze a little more out of him. "I respect a man who drinks my favorite Whiskey, you know." She said, her delivery sleek and sultry.
occ: no! i'm happy you joined :D |
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Post by owen blake on Mar 15, 2011 15:23:32 GMT -10
He'd been quite enjoying the blonde's company. Blondes tended to make him happy and happiness led to things that made him feel really happy... and just a little naughty. Not that Red couldn't do that, but truth was... redheads terrified him. A lot. Maybe it was just because of the one reddie he'd known last year, the one that he graciously dedicated his blame to for now and a definite antagonist in his future movie.
"I respect a man who drinks my favorite Whiskey, you know." Her voice was sleek and husky with an intricate tone of something far more... dangerous. Owen took the shot glass and held it up, studying the amber-colored beverage inside. "I just love the stuff," he replied, his voice slurring as he inhaled the fragrant scent of the liquor. "Mmm, delicious." He took the shot, the searing alcohol tingling all the way down. He was rewarded by the delectable tingle of warmth, a flash of blurriness and he grinned cheekily at the bar-lady. "If it's your favorite, mind having a little shot on me?" he asked, reaching inside for a few more bills.
He rather liked spending his hard-earned - well, who was he kidding, earned - allowance on booze. He could always blame the booze in the morning for the hangover he knew was coming. "I think a carbomb,.. irish carbomb." he said thoughtfully, turning the glass over and pushing it to the edge of the counter. He didn't know how much more he could take before he was tripping. He felt content at the moment, maybe a little hungry, but there wasn't anything that really caught his interest other than the blonde behind the car and she wasn't playing tonight. He was happy to pay for the drinks as long as this new girl felt like chitchatting.
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Post by fennel cassady sinclair on Mar 16, 2011 14:01:22 GMT -10
"if it's your favorite, mind having a little shot on me?"
ruth slipped him a coquettish smile and placed a hand on his payment. "i would love too, but you'll have to catch me off duty. " she began, and pulled out bailey's irish cream and the jameson whiskey. "but tips are just as wonderful as buying me a drink." she winked, filling a pint three quarters of the way up with guinness stout. that was one great thing about drunken men and working at a bar, they offer you a drink and in lieu pay for it like a tip. money was much more convincing than a man coming on to her by buying her a drink, anyways.
as she slid him the shot glass and the pint, ruth attempted to guess his age. she wanted to figure he was at least twenty-one years old or so, but students would drink regardless of their age. he had a maturity to him though that definitely put him within the older class, but yet again people were starting to get older looking no matter the age.
no matter how young he was, he was still a cutie.
"believe me, i would love to drink with you. just can't lose the liquor license in here." ruth spoke over her shoulder, as she was turned away, her voluptuous backside facing him. she was reaching up to hang up the clean wineglasses that were being returned to her as the night when on. the silly thing was, after ruth had gotten her job here she redesigned the bar a bit to keep it nice and sleek. she put the glass rack up to her perfect height, which caused a lot of the other bartenders, even the blonde, to have to get a stool or rely solely on their colossal heels to reach up above to grab a glass.
occ: sorry it's a tad bit short and rough, i'm leaning on the verge of writer's block with ruth. she can be hard to play for me!
and about the redesigning of the bar, i just wrote that to try and fill up some space! i'm not sure if that's allowed or not ha!
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