Tuesdays at a bar were never busy, but still Moira thought there should be more people about. It was dim and rainy outside, the kind of weather that made one want to go out and drink or else snuggle in at home. As she had spent most of the day working at home, a perfectly thrilling exercise, Moira decided to go out. There weren't many places open, true, but she was happy for this one--a new bar at the end of her block called Spiral's.
As she shook the last drops of rain free from her umbrella, Moira couldn't help but think about how empty the place was. It was new, and it always took time for word of mouth to spread, but still. Nobody? The place looked a little eclectic, but no more so than the dozen or so bizarrely themed speakeasies popping up all over the place these days. It was certainly instagrammable, sticking to its theme of spirals on the lamps, coasters, stools. Behind the bar where a giant, polished metal spiral slowly clockwise, encouraging a second, longer look.
It was while she had been staring at that spiral that Moira found herself surprised by the bartender appearing from a small door behind the bar. Moira blinked, shook herself, and smiled a quick welcome. The smile stuck--the bartender was stunning. The dim light of the bar complimented her shocking red hair and accentuated the tight, curving lines of her outfit. She was dressed far more formally than Moira thought necessary for a bar like this: white shirt and vest sporting an on-theme spiral lapel pin with the gold chain of a pocket watch just vanishing into a pocket. When she waved back at Moira, her hands flashed with a myriad of eye-catching, bejeweled rings. She looked to be about Moira's age, mid-twenties, with a shimmer in her green eyes almost as ensnaring as the spiral.
"Oh finally, someone to liven up the place!" the bartender said. "I'm Lana! You?"
"M-Moira," Moira said. She tried to find her mind. "Slow night?"
"And then some," Lana said, setting a full glass of water on a spiraled coaster in front of the seat Moira almost hadn't realized she'd been taking. "It's expected, really. But I'm hoping people are talking about us! Course the weather hasn't helped."
"It sucks out there!" Moira said. "I live just up the road and the walk nearly soaked me through."
"Poor dear." Lana's voice was melodic, her words comforting without a hint of condescension. There was an almost lyrical quality to her accent, which Moira couldn't place. It made her want to pay more attention to figure it out, though. That it was easy to listen to helped some, too. "Sounds like you need something to warm you up! What's your poison?"
"Oh, I don't know..." Moira peered behind Lana, eyes scanning the rows of bottles. There were no labels she recognized. Only more spirals, swaying in the light. "I'm a gin girl most nights."
Gin!" Lana clapped her hands together, momentarily snapping Moira out of herself and focusing her attention back on her and her shocking green eyes. "Night like this is great for a martini, and it's gin you want and you want it stirred, despite what Mr. Bond James Bond says."
"I never knew what that was about," Moira said.
"Oh but it's so fascinating! Do you mind if I nerd a bit? I love this stuff."
"Beats thinking about work."
Lana's smile grew.
"There's a good girl," she said. "You like gin because gin actually has flavor, and when you shake a gin, you're damaging it. Disturbing the botanicals, my mentor used to say. No one wants that. You taste less, you smell less, it's terrible. Why order one? Get vodka instead."
Lana laughed as Moira made what her friends called her 'vodka face.'
"Not a fan?"
"No," Moira said. "Not since college."
"Fair, fair. Mine was Jameson."
"Really? I love a shot after some bullshit."
"Can't touch the stuff, even smell it." Lana reached behind her and took out a martini glass, a stirring glass, a jigger, and a bottle of gin. "But we're talking gin, and stirring. You have to be gentle with gin. Easy like. Shake it all up and it gets hurt and confused. We don't want that, right?"
Moira shook her head, unsure of what she could add to the conversation. Monologue? She relaxed a little in her chair, putting her chin on one hand and her elbow on the bar. Lana was really into this, she could tell. The easy cadence to her voice as she spoke was infectious. Moira smiled a little. It helped she was pretty, that she was giving Moira her full attention. It wasn't that Moira wasn't used to that, but it was pleasant all the same. Easy to relax and listen to the gentle voice, to the sound of the gin pouring into the glass just so--
