Valentine's Day or as any bartender in New York City call it, Fuck a Hot Lonely Chick Day, is the best day of the year for me and unfortunately, it only comes once a year. It's not only because of the prospect of getting laid, it's also because of the revenue generated from the sale of booze and food. People also tip well to impress their dates.
I always take the 2pm 'til close shift because it is the one that sees the most action and with Valentine's Day falling on a Friday this year makes it even better. Many of the Lonely-Hearts Club crew will venture in for lunch and stay until they are so drunk absolutely no one wants them or until we have to carry them out and pour them in a cab.
The Lonely-Hearts Club can be broken down into any number of groups,
1. The Criers. These girls can be the worst and are usually the ones that are escorted out of the building first. They will be the ones that are laughing and having a great time, but something subliminal triggers the tear mechanism in their head and its game over. You can't win in this situation. They'll be crying about how much they miss good old Billy who dumped them at the church picnic one minute and puking all over the next. Avoid these girls at all cost. Any sign of tears and you beat it.
2. The Haters. Now let me tell you, the Haters can be a lot of fun. They usually hate the world or at least the men that occupy it. At one time or another a man in this penis filled world has wronged them and they want revenge. If you are even remotely into full contact, rough and tumble fucking, this is the girl for you.
3. The Rebounder. Rebounders are typically my girl of choice. They have recently gotten out of a relationship and are looking to bounce back. If she walked away on her own its better. If her partner sent her packing, heads up, because that one extra drink could send her into the hater category. The reason I'm so fond of the Rebounder is simple, they have had a little time to reflect on their past relationship and in their minds have ideas on how to change the problems from the past. This means that they are a blank canvas when it comes to sex. Give them the right setting and the right circumstances and they're open to almost anything.
4. The Truly Lonely. This one is self-explanatory. These girls come in all shapes and sizes and it really doesn't matter how pretty they are, they're lonely. We live in this huge concrete jungle and at times it's hard to find someone to love. It could be that they're shy. It could be that they lack confidence, but whatever causes it, they are lonely. I have seen some really, really attractive lonely women, but they're not my thing. These women can be easily bruised by a one-night stand and that's not my idea of fun, so I stay away.
By 5:00pm the bar was a loud reminder of why I loved this city. The 2 to 1 ratio of women to men took over. The sights, smells and sounds of the upper business class was pleasantly obnoxious. Drinks and money flowed into and from the fountains of the affluent.
I like my section of the bar. It gives me the birds eye view of all that is happening, and it was close to the kitchen. The bar is always well stocked with all the needed libations. It is a beer and bourbon heaven.
You can never over or under-estimate the success of a bar by the patrons. Even the best bars sometimes never have attractive people frequent them. We get a pretty good mix here and every so often a rare jewel can be found in our establishment and for me it was that was tonight. I watched this goddess meandering her way through the swaying crowd toward an empty seat at the end of my century old wooden bar. She was stunning. With the grace of a runway model, she placed her cashmere overcoat over the back of the stool and pull herself up. Her skin was perfect with just the right amount of redness from the cold February day. Her long brown hair and her pale pink nails were perfectly groomed. The soft gray Brooks Brothers business suit that she wore was complimented by a set of delicate pearl earring and necklace. She was quite stunning, and she screamed of money.
Her voice was that of angels. It was soft yet strong. Anyone that heard her speak knew that if needed she could take command of a room. A leader of people, not a doubt in my mind.
"What can I get you?"
"3 parts Gordon's, I part Grey Goose, half part Kina Lillet's, shaken over ice, with a twist of lemon." Sounded good. She could have just asked for a Vesper and I would have known.
"Well, how very James Bond of you." I figured that I'd let her know I'd watched the movie also.
"Save it." Ouch. Looks can be deceiving, this goddess might actually be a bitch in angel's clothing.
My every action was measured and weighed. She watched me as if for a split second she assumed that I may poison her. Sorry to let her down, but this was not the first drink I had ever made. Taking a chilled martini glass from the fridge, I set it on our standard coaster and poured the freshly shaken cocktail, filling the glass to her satisfaction.
"That'll be $24.50." When I said it, I glanced around the room because I knew that there had to be at least a couple of Rebounder's lurking around somewhere in here.
Ms. Grey Suit took a large taste of her drink and it must have pleased her taste buds because she immediately ordered another. As I was whipping up her second drink, Tom a California looking surfer dude that works at the other end of the bar came over and asked if I was interested in going to his place after work. Apparently, he had procured sisters for our evening's entertainment.
I don't know why, but when he asked, I looked in the direction of Ms. Grey Suit and she did not disappoint. With raised eyebrow and curled up cheek, she shook her head in disgust.
"Yeah, I'll have to get back to you on that one. Plus, you should be careful, it's still really early."
Setting down the perfectly mixed cocktail I once again marveled at the beauty of this woman. She secreted a bitch like vibe, but it worked for her. In fact, in my eyes, it just made her hotter and more desirable. "That's $49 whenever you're ready."
"Josh, I need 2 Cosmo's, 2 Spritzers, 3 Coronas, a Guinness, and 8 shots of and I quote, "Whatever tequila will get us fucked up." Sandy was a cute little server that had worked here for 4 years. She is sarcastic as fuck and I love it. Sandy is married with 2 small kids and her husband is a cop that will pop by occasionally for a pint, so nobody messes with her.
I filled Sandy's order, topped up everyone sitting at the bar, made a series of drinks for people standing near the bar or were reaching over it and I continued making sure that all glasses were full.
My James Bond girl was on her phone when I ventured back to her area. With a high-end, finely manicured finger, she tapped the rim of her glass to indicate that she'd have another. Well I've never been the kind of person to judge another on what or how much they drink, I do believe that it is my obligation to point out the effects that may arise due to an over-indulgence. So, I poured a glass of ice water, floated in a wedge of lemon and placed it next to her empty martini glass. With a quizzical look Ms. Grey Suit told her call to "hold on for a sec."
"I don't remember ordering water." She was clearly pissed off.
"Oh, I am fully aware what you ordered, and I know that they pack a punch, so the water is an added bonus. Don't want you to get a DUI."
"I know what punch they pack. This is not my first time in a bar and do I even for a second give you the slightest impression that I'm about to drive anywhere?" I shook my head no and filled my shaker with ice. Before she went back to her call, under her breath I heard her say "Jesus".
