7:22 pm. a guy walks in a bar. he's obviously tired from work. loosens his tie and unbuttons that pesky choker known as the shirt's top button choker.
he orders for two shots of vodka. bartender obliges. he downs the first shot. no problem. he looks at his watch. it's 7:29. he downs the second shot. no problem. he orders another double. both went down in a couple of seconds. then he orders a beer. he leans forward with elbows on the bar. he chills.
five minutes later, he turns to the bar tender and asks who won the game. the bartender doesn't answer. didn't hear the question.
then a voice of a lady suddenly said the lakers lost again. he looks at the end of the bar and sees the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen in his entire life. sweat starts rolling down his forehead. his heart is pounding so hard, he could've sworn he saw it jump off his chest and do the macarena right there at the bar. he closes his eyes. for a minute. focus. focus. gets up from his chair. walks. walks. walks with a swagger. he feels like bruce lee. or bruce wayne. either way, he's beaming with confidence. he'll score tonight. no doubt.
a few seconds later, his face is about six inches away from the woman. he feels nervous. very. the woman's smiling. looking at his eyes.
he asks her if he can buy her a drink. the woman doesn't answer. instead, she reaches out for her bag and takes out a knife. with one stroke, he's down on the floor. holding his left ear. well, actually the woman is holding his left ear. he's just bleeding. messy. very. badly.
then the woman gets up. pays for her drink and walks out the door. he looks at his watch, it's 2:30 am.
***
i'm out.
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