When David emerged from the 96th Street subway station, there was a crowd of people staring and pointing at the dark sky. Usually, the city lights made it too bright to see anything, but David was able to see a bright streak of light descending over New Jersey. A guy wearing a t-shirt and shorts was staring at his iPhone and said, to no one in particular, "they are saying that it is a meteor, not a UFO. Nothing to be concerned about." The crowd began to disperse, and David looked at his watch. Only 8:00 on Thursday. He decided to stop for a drink at O'Malley's, a dive bar on the way to his apartment, for a beer.
He walked the two blocks to the bar and entered, passing the smokers gathered out front. The smell of stale beer was comforting, as was the anonymity of a nondescript bar in the middle of the big city. Even though he came to the bar a couple of nights a week, David made no drinking buddies. He was content, for the most part, to nurse his beer, nibble on the stale peanuts and watch whatever sporting event was on the bulky old TVs. It was a nice way to decompress from the pressures of being a senior associate on the partnership track at the big downtown law firm that sucked up most of his life.
The one exception to his lack of interest in engaging with anyone at O'Malley's was Donna, the bartender. Although she was a little rough around the edges, David found himself strongly attracted to her. She oozed sexuality and was the opposite of the manicured and expensively put together women at the firm, most of whom looked more interested in stabbing him in the back to get ahead than to sleep with him. Donna had long, curly black hair, piercing blue eyes, soft red lips and large round breasts, which she emphasized by wearing tight, low cut shirts every night, no matter the weather. David had worked at restaurants during high school and college, and understood that was her way to maximize tips. Over the past year, they had flirted some, but it never went past that, although David had, on occasion, jerked off thinking of her firm tits and the unusual cuff tattoo that circled her toned upper right arm. David assumed that Donna flirted with all the male customers, and never though he had a real chance. Not to mention that they were from very different worlds.
He was not, however, celibate by any means. David was an attractive, young lawyer, making good money, and he was generally charming enough to get laid when he wanted to. He was, in fact, only three months removed from a nearly 9 month relationship with a junior investment banker, who, despite a stunning body and total lack of inhibition in the bedroom, ultimately bored him with her incessant chatter about debentures and tranches.
Approaching the bar, he made eye contact with Donna, who was pouring a beer for a middle aged, paunchy guy. She smiled at him, then returned her attention back to the older guy, who took his beer and dropped a pile of singles on the worn wooden bar before turning away. David slid into the now empty spot and watched Donna's tight, jean-clad ass as she attended to another customer before turning to take his order.
"The usual?" she asked, tossing her mane of hair and licking her luscious lips.
"Yes, please," David said, as he watched Donna's breasts sway slightly when she turned toward the beer taps. She returned with the beer, and he dropped a 20 on the bar. David watched her ass again as she walked toward the cash register and returned with his change, which she neatly stacked in front of him.
Donna leaned over, giving David a generous glimpse of her cleavage, then stood up and asked, "can I get you anything else?"
"No, thanks," David replied, and Donna turned to attend to another drinker.
David sipped his beer, slowly, and watched the Mets play the Braves. Occasionally, he noticed Donna as she flashed by, but the bar was too busy for talking. The brief that he was working on and the bullshit he had gotten from an arrogant junior partner began to fade from his mind as he focused on the game and his beer. During an inning break, they cut to a news bulletin which described the meteor that David had seen earlier, and the panic that it seemed to induce among the tin-hat crowd who expected little green men to emerge.
After he finished his beer, David picked up the bulk of his change, leaving a nice tip, waved to Donna, who smiled back at him, and left the bar. He walked the 3 blocks to his building, exchanged pleasantries with the doorman sitting behind his desk and took the elevator to his apartment. He got out of his suit into a pair of shorts and t-shirt, heated up the last of his leftover Chinese food and ate it while watching the Mets pull out a late inning victory, before brushing his teeth and getting into bed.