THE BARTENDER'S STORY

I was washing glasses behind the bar when in walked this brunette in
a skin tight dress and a body that begged for it. Fred, a regular who
showed up around 3:30 every day almost dropped his teeth. She strutted
in wearing fuck-me pumps and sat at the other end of the bar. She
opened a cigarette case, pulled one out and tamped it on the bar. I
walked over and lit it and wiped the bar in front of her.

"What'll it be?" I smiled.

She looked up, placed a red lacquered nail between her teeth and said,
"Hmm, How about a Cosmo?"

I nodded and went to work. Cosmos, or Cosmopolitans, were the drink of
choice for rich yuppies nowadays, and she fit the bill. She examined
her nails and adjusted her jewelry while I shook the concoction to
perfection. I poured it through a strainer into an icy glass and set it
on a napkin in front of her. She smiled and picked it up, holding her
pinky and forefinger away from the glass. She took a tiny sip.
"Perfect," she purred.

Meanwhile Terry was losing room in his briefs. She was hot. He couldn't
keep his eyes off her, and she knew it. He ordered another Scotch for
courage and walked toward her and the jukebox. He nodded as he passed
her and leaned palms down on the juke, pretending to pick out songs. He
turned to her and said, "Anything special you want to hear?"

She spun the barstool slowly toward him and crossed her legs. He was
beginning to sweat. "I'd love to hear 'I'm Holding Out for a Hero' by
the Eurhythmics, if it's on there." She smiled coyly. She unfolded her
long naked legs and walked toward him, turning her heel and sending her
slightly off balance. She leaned on Fred and the juke to steady
herself, cleavage beckoning.

Terry was sniffing the goal line and moved in quicker than usual. His
skinny arm slipped around her back as they peered together at the list
of tunes. She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and looked him in
the eyes, smiling.

Suddenly, the door banged open and in strode a guy who looked a pro
ball player, he was so damn big and frighteningly taut. She turned and
smiled, "Hi, Honey, I'd like you to meet, uh, what's your name?"

"Uh, it's Fred, Fred McDougall. Nice to meet you, sir." He glanced
nervously at his watch and said, "Geez, it's later than I thought. I'd
better git or the missus will have my ass." With that, he slugged down
his Scotch and slithered out the door.

"What'll it be?" I asked.

Fred's Story

I glanced and my watch as I entered Eddie's Bar. It was approaching
3:45, and I was done for the day. Made a couple of vacuum sales and
deserved a drink to celebrate. I nodded at John, the bartender as he
set a Dewer's and water in front of me. I loosened my tie and took off
my jacket, hanging it on the back of my barstool. I slugged down my
drink and slid it toward John, reaching for the next one he had mixed
when the door opened. I put the glass to my lips and saw her in the
mirror.

She was incredible. Long, tall drink of water, with a mass of auburn
curls cascading down her back. She was covered in some kind of
skin-tight dress from her armpits to her crotch and had long, tan legs.
I glanced in the mirror behind the bar and ran my fingers through my
hair hoping my thin spot didn't show. I slipped off my wedding ring
while John lit her cigarette and wiped the bar in front of her.

She slid up on the stool, legs slipping apart and flashing a dark,
enticing place up inside the front of her dress. She glanced my way,
and I was starting to sweat. I slid a dollar bill across the bar, and
John gave me four quarters.

As he served her a martini of some kind, and I watched her full lips
part slightly as she sipped it. She sighed, "Mmmmm, perfect." I swear
she licked her lips.

Quarters in hand, I walked toward her and the juke box trying to act
like I hadn't seen her. I caught her eye at the last second and leaned
on the juke, pretending to study the choices. I cast my eyes sideways
and noticed she'd turned, too.

"Anything special you want to hear?" I asked, praying.

She stepped down from the stool and her dress rode way up, and I could
see her bare legs. I just knew she wasn't wearing panties. She
slithered up next to me. I was starting to make plans.

"I'd love to hear 'Holding out for a Hero' by the Eurhythmics." She
leaned against me and smiled, licking her bottom lip. I could feel her
heat and smell her perfume. I slipped my arm around her waist and felt
her lean into me. Her cleavage was spectacular. Oh, yeah.
Suddenly, the door opened, and we both turned to see this gigantic dude
stroll in and stop. He looked straight at me with fire in his
eyes.

"Hi, Honey. I'd like you to meet, uh, what's your name?"

I extended my hand. "Fred, Fred McDougall. Nice to meet you, man." I
knew it was time to go. I nodded and walked toward the bar. I looked at
John and slugged down my Scotch. "Well, I guess I'll get home to the
wife. See you tomorrow." I was out the door without delay.

Her Story

I climbed out of my car and pulled my skirt down. God, why are these
dresses so difficult? I pulled up the top to tuck in my overflowing
cleavage a bit. Enough was enough. Now where was this place? I hated
waiting to meet my husband, David, wondering when he would show. There
was always some creep I had to deal with. I glanced at my watch. Almost
four. Well, he should be here any time.

I pushed open the door, and my heart sank. One guy and the bartender. I
was the only meat in town. I looked straight ahead and slid onto a
barstool, uncomfortably aware of how high my short dress rose. Shit.
The bartender approached and looked like a nice guy.

"What'll it be?"

I couldn't decide. "Hmmm, how about a Cosmo?" I smiled. A minute later
I had an icy drink in front of me. I sipped.

"Perfect," though it was a poor imitation of the real thing. I looked
at my nail and noticed a chip. Goddamnit, I thought. Two weeks until my
rebase.

I looked in the mirror and saw the guy at the end of the bar get up and
walk toward me. Fuck. Here we go. He was a geek, and I always got the
geeks. I pretended not to see him. I sipped again.

"Anything special you want to hear?"

He had such a nice voice! I turned and looked at him, adjusting my
legs, trying to slide off the stool without thrilling him with a bold
beaver. "Well, I'd love to hear 'Holding out for a Hero' by the
Eurhythmics."

I tried to be nice while remaining distant as he stared at my breasts.
I moved toward him and the jukebox to look at the selections when my
heel turned. Damn these high heels! I leaned against him for a second
as I straightened and looked at the songs. Then, I felt his skinny arm
slither around my waist. Shit. Why me? Suddenly, the door opened, and
there was David. Thank God. He deserved this, making me wait.

"Hi, Honey." I smiled spitefully. "I'd like you to meet, uh, what's
your name?"

The guy extended his hand.

"Fred, Fred McDougall. Nice to meet you, man." David shook his hand,
and I could see him squeeze hard. He moved toward me, and I gratefully
met him halfway.
The dweeb headed toward his barstool. I guess he figured it was time to
go. I kissed David and winked.

I heard the dork say. "Well, I guess I'll get home to the wife. See you
tomorrow." He headed for the door. John and I slid onto
barstools.

"What'll it be?" The bartender wiped the bar in front of us.