Emily Moyra Byrne With a deep sigh, she snagged an empty bartool close to the center of the bar counter and took her seat. Her weight shifted to pull the black cashmere coat ends from under her. A white wife-beater tanktop and khaki Dickies with black hiking boots complimented her appearance. Her voluminous red hair was loose again tonight. As the bartender came up to her on the other side of the counter, she grinned, nodded, "Apple martini?" He nodded and she replied, "Thanks."
Emily Moyra Byrne The bartender came with her order minutes after. She shifted in her stool, pushing her hand into the right front pocket of her Dickies,, pulling out 7 GPS (what passed for currency in these places, she'd learned), then took the apple martini by the stem of the glass and off the napkin. Lips met the edge of the slanted cone that housed the drink, taking her sips while looking to her left, then her right.
Emily Moyra Byrne The bartender continued to stand in front of her on the other side of the bar counter, cleaning a glass. Emily cautiously set the 7 GPS on the hard-bit wooden surface and pushed the money towards him. He nodded knowingly, before snatching the money. Emily watched him amble towards the end of the counter as he swung a white cloth over his shoulder and counted the money. She set the half-finished drink down in front of her on the white napkin.
Emily Moyra Byrne "Hmmm..." she hummed to herself, looking down at the half-finished apple martini sitting idle in the glass. The green liquid vibrated every once in a while, evident by the movements of the many bodies that leaned on the counter on either side of her, either pounding the wood at some revelation or joke that came their way. The redhead crossed her arms, setting them down near the edge of the counter that she leaned against it.
Emily Moyra Byrne An itching sensation crept up her throat, forcing her to cough with her mouth closed. Her shoulders convulsed slightly at the action. She swallowed hard, soothing the dryness in her throat she knew came from coughing. Suddenly, she felt someone's arm brush her back, the touch triggering her psyche to 'vaccuum' her into another time and place. Being a third party observer in this time and place, she saw the person, a woman, shoot up, crying as she slid the needle into the exposed vein at the crook of her left elbow. And just like that, Emily was thrown back into the here and now. Emily blinked a couple of times, shook her head slowly, and looked from left to right, hoping to glimpse the woman in her vision...
Emily Moyra Byrne No such luck. She couldn't find one female face that matched the woman she'd 'seen'. Frowning slightly, Emily stood from her barstool, maneuvering around the many bodies that occupied the place until she approached the door. Quickly, she reached for the door as it was closing, took a firm grip on its edge as she pulled herself outside; her steps quickened, suddenly realizing what time it was, heading off to get ready for the week ahead....
...So there it was, my relaxed evening. If I had to choose one other word besides "relaxing", I would pick "mundane". After all, how many other people in other bars have a drink by themselves? They are innumerable. Mind you, I'm not complaining. If anything, my evening was a celebration, a recount of things I hardly have the opportunity to do...a welcoming change. One that I knew would not come too often...