She braced her back against the counter of the bar. Her red stilettoes cupped her tiny feet as one hid under the bar top and the other planted firmly on the ground. Her black curly hair danced a jig as the table fan turned its voice in her direction. Her white mini skirt barley covered the the top of her slim thighs. Her narrow waist fitted beautifully with her well cupped bustline. The red anglaise blouse allowed for some room. At times she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Six bar stools lay forlorn .
The orange lights in the bar permeated the room. A couple engaged each other at a table as the nine others lay bare with candle lights for the expected patrons. The fresh smell of barbecued chicken whiffed through the air. A love song perfumed the room. She smiled and seemed to be singing along. The barman minded his own business. He wiped the counter top, mixed a few drinks and waited.
Over the years he has seen thousands of visitors and some patients at this worksite. He attended school just up to grade 12 and had known only one job. Yet, he had become a graduate in counselling. His new patient spun around and grabbed a barstool. Her skirt now revealing more flesh. She ordered a glass of brandy and coke, planted one elbow on the counter top as her counsellor waited for the first question.
" How do you make a guy love you the way he should?", came her raspy voice. The barman, looking thoughtful allowed the air to digest the question. He has heard this several times before. There was no single answer. (To be continued) © September 2022 Wallace Paul.
The orange lights in the bar permeated the room. A couple engaged each other at a table as the nine others lay bare with candle lights for the expected patrons. The fresh smell of barbecued chicken whiffed through the air. A love song perfumed the room. She smiled and seemed to be singing along. The barman minded his own business. He wiped the counter top, mixed a few drinks and waited.
Over the years he has seen thousands of visitors and some patients at this worksite. He attended school just up to grade 12 and had known only one job. Yet, he had become a graduate in counselling. His new patient spun around and grabbed a barstool. Her skirt now revealing more flesh. She ordered a glass of brandy and coke, planted one elbow on the counter top as her counsellor waited for the first question.
" How do you make a guy love you the way he should?", came her raspy voice. The barman, looking thoughtful allowed the air to digest the question. He has heard this several times before. There was no single answer. (To be continued) © September 2022 Wallace Paul.