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A Pretender story by Mareen
I love my job. I really do. It's exciting, you know. New people everyday. I like to talk to them. I like to pour them drinks. I like to do the dishes. Yeah. Yadda Yadda. You know, that's what I tell women if they ask me. But the truth is: What I like most, are the chicks. I love chicks. Longs legs. Breasts. Lips. Hair. Breasts...
...Sorry, I was lost in thoughts for a few minutes...
So, chicks. That's why I took this job. Sooner or later the single one's have to come to the bar to get a drink and that's where I come into the game of love. I mean, just because they don't have a guy to get them a drink they aren't all loosers or something, you know. A lot of the single ones are good ones. They have good legs and good breasts and they are lonely and yadda yadda. You know what I mean.
But then there are these guests from Hell, you know. The ones who come into the Bar alone and after talking to them for, you know, like five minutes or so, you know why they are single.
And this one... yeah...Super-Guest send by the great big bad one himself. Good-looking guy he is though. "Stranger with a past" kind of guy. The chicks look after him while he sits down at my bar and I'm thinking to myself that this guy is a real, you know, chick magnet and maybe I'll get lucky tonight because of him, because, you know, he makes all the girls hot but can't take home everyone of them and that's when they get sad and they are thinking "Hey! I'm not good enough. I'm ugly!" and, yadda yadda, the rest is history. The bartender doesn't go home alone tonight.
So, you know my mood gets better and better while I'm washing more glasses and watch him sit down on the stool opposite me. But then I see his face and my whole good mood goes to hell in one damn second, because, holy hell, here's a guy ready to get really drunk.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
"What can I get you?" I say, mood dropping more and more.
"Vodka", he answers after a moment of thinking. "That's what she takes all the time."
Yeah. Fuck. That's a real fuck.
There's a "she". And he looks like he wants to talk about her.
FUCK. In capital letters. Hell! In damn blinking illuminated capital letters.
I pour him the Vodka and put it down in front of him and then I try to get away. Slowly and carefully, trying to be gone before he realizes it.
"Her name is Parker."
I stop and turn around to face him again.
"Really?" I sigh. "What kind of strange name is that?"
"She doesn't like to be called by her first name."
"Huh huh", I answer. He takes a nip from his drink and I watch some chicks with great legs.
"But I know it", he smiles. "I know everything about her."
Uh uh. Another one of "those".... I mean, they look normal. But...hey! "I know everything about her." Does that sound like a sicko talking, or what?
"Everything, heh?" I ask.
"Yes. But she doesn't want to talk to me. I think, she hates me."
"Oh really?" I pretend to sound surprised.
"Yeah", he sighs. "And I only want to help her....Somehow at least. In my own kind of way."
"Women are so ungrateful!" Yeah! They are. Stupid chicks. Never know how lucky they are. I mean, what else am I supposed to do? Am I not working as hard as...
"You know", he suddenly says with a surprisingly big grin on his face, "I met this man once. And he told me if I'd ever be interested in gayness I should call him. Maybe... I never tried to be gay, you know. Maybe I should?"
Hey! What's that? Great legs. Great breast. Long hair. Dressed in a red dress. Just came in and is now sitting down on a chair. And smiling at me! Maybe I will get lucky tonight. I'll just have to get rid of that whining idiot.
"Yeah!" I say again, smiling brightly towards the chick in red. "Give up chicks! Take guys! You know, you could watch football together. Eat unhealthy food. To hell with smelling good or wearing clean clothes. Or trying to hide how you scratch your crotch. You could do all those manly things but have the joys of sex, too. It'll be great! Gay is good, friend."
He gleams for another, let's say around 30 seconds and I'm just getting ready to take-off towards the chick in red when the depressed expression returns to his face.
I am getting depressed, too.
"But...it wouldn't be real", he says, whining again. "Now that I realized...No, it would feel like cheating her."
I let go an involuntary groan.
"Listen, friend", I tell him. "So you fell in love with a woman who hates you. Okay. Shit happens. Now, you've got to give her up. Take a look around. Chicks in here are staring at you, okay? You've got all the chances."
"You think?" He turns and has a good look around. When he looks at me again he tells me: "You are probably right."
Yeah! He got it. Here I come Woman in Red!
"But..." He still has this unhappy expression on his face.
"...I already tried other women."
Yadda Yadda Yadda. Here we go with the whole sad story.
"And it didn't make me happy. Thinking about it, they all had her dark hair and her slender body. Maybe I was searching for her in them. She looks so fragile, you know. On first sight, all you'd want to do is take her in your arms and keep her save. But she's the strongest woman I ever met. No-one comes near to her. None of the women I met since I met her."
He takes the rest of his vodka and asks for another one. While pouring it, I watch a guy approaching my chick in red. I frown. Damn it! I have to get rid of this idiot in front of me or it'll be too late and someone else will get lucky tonight.
"I know we've got a lot of problems", the said idiot continues. "But I really believe we could get over them if she'd just..."
He sighs again and takes the whole vodka down with one large gulp.
"Give me more", he whispers. As he watches me pouring the new drink he gives me a stupid smile and tells me: "You know, I do not usually drink a lot."
One look into his glazed eyes and I dryly answer: "Oh really? I wouldn't have guessed."
"Yeah...Drinking a lot isn't such a good idea in my current situation."
Uh uh... This stupid Mr Wonderful makes my chick in red laugh a lot. It's getting dangerous over there.
"What situation?" I ask without really being interested in the answer.
"Job situation, you could say..." he answers, waving with his hands. "Don't ask.."
He has more vodka. I am getting more depressed.
"You know, it was a surprise for me, too. I mean, one day we are fierce enemies, the other day I realize I am...you known am..."
"Just say it, pal, will you?" Okay, I do sound unnerved here. What do you expect?
"I realize, I want her as more than just a friend...Not that we are exactly friends right now. But we could be friends. We've got a lot in common. And I know everything..."
"...about her, I know."
I watch the woman in red, the one I intended to get lucky with tonight, getting ready to take-off not with me, but with that idiot on the chair beside her.
"Maybe that's why she doesn't like you", I tell the guy responsible for me not getting lucky. "Ever thought about that?"
"Yeah! I think!" I really don't want to help him. I don't want to. But...Ah! To Hell with it! This guy really seems to need help from someone who knows about women! "Listen, pal, women want mystery. And they want romance. And they hate men who run after them. They want to be treated bad, okay? But if you make them believe you know, like, everything about them, you only sound like a sicko to them."
"Yeah, I think she called me that once", he frowns. "Not in those exact words but..."
"See!" I tell him.
"Okay." He takes another nip from his drink. "But I know her. It will take a long while before she...you know? And I'm not really happy. And maybe she meets another guy before she realizes that I am the one for her...She already did that once, you know."
He stares into nothingness for a moment.
"You know what?" he suddenly says with an unhappy sound in his voice.
"Yeah, I know", I answer while watching the chick in red disappear with Mr Wonderful. "Love's a bitch, pal."
"Yeah", he says and stares down at his drink.
"Women." We sigh in sync.
Maybe I'll get a new job. Maybe...Maybe my new friend here knows about a place? It could be worth a try, I mean. Hey! I could ask him where he works! Maybe there's a job in there for me, too. New job. New chicks. Yadda Yadda. The rest is history. And my mood is getting better, friends.
"You know", I tell him, "this could be the beginning of a wonderful friendship"
He takes another sip of his drink, still brooding about women. I smile at him, then take his hand and shake it. "Hey! What's your name, man?" I ask him with newfound hope in my voice.
"Lyle", he answers. "My name is Lyle."
He looks at me and smiles a bit...strange.
But, Hell, who cares!?
I certainly do not.