“Well! Done!” Mark said, with an embarrassed smile.
“What?” she asked. The music in the bar was so damn loud, it entered your ears and wouldn’t leave or give way for any other sound.
He leaned his head right in to hers. “WELL! DONE!”
“Oh, yeah!”
she
laughed and
held up the
drink that
some guy had
bought her. It was
a marvelous feat.“Oh, yeah!” she laughed and held up the drink that some guy had bought her. It was a marvelous feat. She (’genie–that’s her name and I’m sure it’s short for something) had said to Mark, ‘I’m going to go have someone buy me a drink’ and she now had one.
“Who bought it?” he asked.
“Don’t even know. Didn’t have to speak to him, he was all the way on the other end,” she twisted her head a little in that general direction, “He just told the bartender ‘I’d like to get her a drink’ and–”
“Now you have one.”
“Mmm Hmm. Hey,” she laughed again, “you should go and say ‘Thanks for buying my girlfriend a drink’”.
Mark’s heart dropped a little as he forced a smile. ‘My Girlfriend” just sounded nice, even if not at all true. “You think he’d buy me one?”
“Maybe!”, she said, smiling.
Actually, it wasn’t really a joke. Both of them were broke, but only Genie was a pretty girl. Only Genie was pretty, period.
“You think if I walk up there all suave,” Mark said as Genie ignored him, “that maybe some gay dude will buy…”
She wasn’t paying any attention to him. Her eyes were focused beyond his shoulders at a rather loud table, even louder than you had to be in a place as loud as this.
“Dicks, right!” he said to her stare.
“No,” she leaned in to his ear, “There’s one guy there that…no, don’t look…he’s really cute.”
Mark watched her gaze go farther and farther towards this mystery man and with it his own chances. He looked over to see this loser, a truly second-rate character he thought, as he and his lame friends competed to speak over each other.
“Is he,” Mark said low, “wearing a beanie? Is this the 90s–”
She gave an excited nod, her eyes still focused on the man. “Here, take my drink,” she asked.
“You’re going over there now?” Mark replied with near-horror.
“No,” she laughed. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Mark took her free drink, wondering if there was anything in this or any other bathroom which could stop the unholy union from taking place.
“Thanks,” she said when he was holding it, “you’re so fucking awesome, you know that? (her eyes scanned the room) We should find you a girl here, dude.” And she disappeared into the bar’s tiny bathroom.
Being ‘fucking awesome’ was like being ‘a great friend’ or when they ‘just love to hang out with you’. Mark knew this. It was the end, there was no way back. He put the drink down on the nearest table and walked to the back of the bar, where the object of his object’s desire sat with his friends, still yelling.
“Hey man…” Mark said, quite clearly, to the man with the beanie. The table got quiet, almost nervous, and they all looked at him.
Mark bent down to the man and spoke, “Look, dude, there’s a girl in the bathroom, when–she likes you–when she gets out, go up and talk to her. She’ll be yours in like five minutes.”
The rest of the table cracked up, but the man stared in wonder.
“Is she hot–”
“Yeah, yeah…” Mark assured him.
“Hey, thanks man” the winner said, but Mark had already left the bar and walked off down the street.
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