How about a Dirty Martini with a cherry on top?
WHO: Nicoleta and Willem
WHERE: A modestly priced pub that has poor service
WHEN: Thursday evening
WHAT: Two bartenders enter a boisterous bar. One is rather loud while the other is rather quiet.
It's been about a week or two since she received her retribution: the silent treatment. Frankly Nicoleta would have fared better if it was anything but that. But with help from a friend, two, or perhaps many, she was able to gain a good portion of her spirit back. She was well enough to at least laugh when she wants to but there was still a bit of bitterness clinging on the hinges.
She walked in the pub with a lackadaisical semblance as hissed at the jovial atmosphere. The woman merely rubbed her neck as she approached the bar, where a rather old and wrinkly looking bartender was cleaning the tabletop. Without much thought, she took an empty seat next to a man with spiky dirty blond hair. She didn't know whether he was saving a seat for someone or not but hell if she cared.
"Give me a Bastard, geezer. Dying." She said blandly after catching the bartender's attention. He gave her a scowl but complied and pushed her drink towards her moments later. Afterwards, she held up the cup to eye-level and then scrutinized it. "You didn't properly blend it well." Nicoleta grumbled before taking a sip. Immediately, her face soured as she set the drink down loudly. "Fuck you put in too much lemon, dammit."
"Hey shut it, bitch. You're still paying for that."
She shot him daggers as he walked off to tend another customer. Her hands were already in fists but her conscience kicked in; it told her that it is pitiful to beat up an old man. Nicoleta snorted as she glanced at the man next to her. "Don't tell me he fucked up your drink too."
WHERE: A modestly priced pub that has poor service
WHEN: Thursday evening
WHAT: Two bartenders enter a boisterous bar. One is rather loud while the other is rather quiet.
It's been about a week or two since she received her retribution: the silent treatment. Frankly Nicoleta would have fared better if it was anything but that. But with help from a friend, two, or perhaps many, she was able to gain a good portion of her spirit back. She was well enough to at least laugh when she wants to but there was still a bit of bitterness clinging on the hinges.
She walked in the pub with a lackadaisical semblance as hissed at the jovial atmosphere. The woman merely rubbed her neck as she approached the bar, where a rather old and wrinkly looking bartender was cleaning the tabletop. Without much thought, she took an empty seat next to a man with spiky dirty blond hair. She didn't know whether he was saving a seat for someone or not but hell if she cared.
"Give me a Bastard, geezer. Dying." She said blandly after catching the bartender's attention. He gave her a scowl but complied and pushed her drink towards her moments later. Afterwards, she held up the cup to eye-level and then scrutinized it. "You didn't properly blend it well." Nicoleta grumbled before taking a sip. Immediately, her face soured as she set the drink down loudly. "Fuck you put in too much lemon, dammit."
"Hey shut it, bitch. You're still paying for that."
She shot him daggers as he walked off to tend another customer. Her hands were already in fists but her conscience kicked in; it told her that it is pitiful to beat up an old man. Nicoleta snorted as she glanced at the man next to her. "Don't tell me he fucked up your drink too."