After parking my car about a block away, I started to walk down the street. Normally I'd park far just in case I got into some trouble – which happened every so often since I had a short temper after a long day of work.
It was so quiet, you could hear the tapping of my black dress shoes against the walkway. The cool, autumn air felt refreshing against my face. Soon the leaves would fall, then the snow.
Man, I couldn't wait for winter break. Work had been tough lately and a break was well deserved.
About three minutes later, I walked into the bar. It was late at night and I felt slammed from work. I ruffled my suit jacket before I looked around the small, dimly lit pub. Somewhere in here, I was supposed to meet up with my friend-
"Scott! Hey, Scotty!"
I turned to my left; the direction of the voice.
"Bridget," I greeted in reply with a nod. I then smirked as I walked over to the stool that was empty next to her and sat down.
Bridget has been a long-time friend. We agreed to meet up here for a drink or two. Unlike me, she was dressed casually; I was in a suit because I had just finished work.
"You finally managed to know much gel to use, I'm guessing?" Bridget noted, putting her hand up and fluffing up my hair.
She was right, though. I always added too much gel and my blonde hair became sticky and stiff. I shook my head; her hand fell back down.
"And you know how to use a brush now!" I sarcastically commented as she grabbed her dark, brown hair, pushing it behind her ear. "Oh, how the times have changed."
She looked at my outfit. "You're lookin' spiffy tonight."
"Work."
She nodded.
At that moment, I hadn't realized that the bartender was just standing with his hands on the bar, clearly waiting for us to order a drink.
"Ready now?" he asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.
Bridget shifted in her seat. "Y-yes, sorry. I'll have a Bahama Breeze."
"Okay," the bartender said. He turned to me. "And you, sir?"
My order. My classic order. Oh, how delicious it was. My taste buds had a mini party just thinking about it. I grinned slightly as I lifted my feet off the ground, placing them on the edge of the stool and turned to face the bartender and not my best friend.
"A martini. Shaken, not stirred."