Five days a week, Shira works at the bar called Mother's Bar in downtown. This Thursday, there is a business event. The bar, usually loud with the clinking of glasses and loud laughs, takes on a slightly more refined atmosphere this Thursday, but just slightly. It's a bunch of local real estate agents who are networking. Shira was able to hide in the restroom for 10 minutes, browsing through other people's instagram photos, before someone knocked the second time.
She came out of the restroom while she quickly stuck the phone back to her butt pocket. When she looked up, her manager nodded to her and smiled.
"Damn", she said quietly.
Shira got behind the bar and started serving a tray of cocktails. By this time, her fake smile is 10 out of 10 good. She navigated her way effortlessly through with the kind of aggressive enthusiasm only real estate agents can master on a Thursday evening. The room is filled with multiple waves of self-congratulating chatter. With every overpriced condo sale, these boys and girls' egos inflated, as if the 08 hit in the real estate market is ancient Rome history. As Shira observed from behind the bar, she couldn't help but think of this poorly scripted reality TV show she saw in the past where everyone thinks they're the star.
Half way through the event, the energy level finally tuned down a bit. A short young guy in black hoodie and jeans came to the bar. He stood there as he stared down at the menu.
His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he contemplated his choices. Then he looked up. "Uh, what's the least strong thing you have? I'm kind of a lightweight."
Shira reached for the club soda while still looking into the crowd. She smoothly poured it into a glass filled with ice. She served the drink without a word. In her head, she was calculating whether the bus would still be running or if she'd need to walk home.
"Uh, thanks". The short guy murmured. He grabbed a chair and settled himself quietly next to the bar. He then reached for a straw, and started sipping the soda. Every now and then, he pushed his glasses back up his nose.
He sat quietly, sipped a few more times, then put the sleek black camera on his neck on the bar. His sore neck made a soft crackling sound as he started rotating his head.
As Shira's gaze settled on the camera, she suddenly got intrigued. "Cool camera," she masked her keen interest with a casual smile...at her best effort. "Are you into photography?"
The young guy looked up, surprised that anyone would notice. "Uh, oh, me?" He quickly continued "They hired me as the photographer for this event."
"OH NICE! That's really cool." Shira suddenly seemed more excited than that real estate guy Tom who did the opening speech just now. She smiled harder. "I LOVE good photos." She remembered seeing this person all of a sudden. He was taking photos here and there, or something.
"How much would this camera cost?" Shira completely ignores a woman agent on the other end of the bar who is trying to get her attention. "Like $2000?"
"Uh, hmm, uh". The photographer said "$7000 for the camera and $2500 for the lens. This is Canon.". He suddenly felt the need to confess, "This is not mine. I rent these and get reimbursed."
Shira could not care less. Her mind is already racing with ideas
By the end of the night, Shira felt pumped on the bus. She looked at the phone as she got two things: Zack's number and a plan.
Who's Zack? You can't be serious with this question.
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