Chapter 3: The Bar

It’s 7:56 at night, I’m standing right outside of my apartment building waiting for Rachel to arrive with the Uber. I don’t know why, but I feel a bit nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s because of the Uber, or maybe it’s the inevitable intoxication I’ll have to deal with in the morning, but nevertheless I can feel butterflies fluttering inside my stomach.

I decided on a pretty basic sparkly black dress for the night out. I was never one for dresses, but I’ve always found these dresses cute. Plus, it really accentuates my boobs and butt. If I’m going to get wasted, I’m gonna look hot while doing it.

The street is cold and quiet, with only the wind being noticeably audible. I was never really a fan of how dead it is outside at this time of night, but I guess I’m just not used to it being empty around this time here compared to back home. Where I lived, the streets would be full of people partying and playing until midnight. My neighbors were all close friends in our tight knit community, but in the city people just want to be alone with their family and that’s it.

After a couple of minutes, I see headlights coming at my direction. I can instinctively tell that’s probably the Uber, so I walk closer to the curb and wait for the car to make a stop. Surprisingly, my hunch was correct! The back passenger door opens and Rachel steps out of the vehicle.

She’s dressed in a very elegant white dress that shows a very healthy amount of cleavage. Around her neck is a very cute necklace of albeit cheap looking pearls. Surprisingly she has let her hair down and it looks very curly like one of those shampoo bottle models. Needless to say, she looks very beautiful.

“Oh my god! You look so perfect Sophie!” Rachel almost squeals as she runs up to hug me. It is a bit unexpected as I tumble a bit backwards, but thankfully I don’t fall. I can feel her arms wrap around my back with a grip of King Kong! She’s a couple inches taller than me, and unlike my daily routine, she exercises and goes to the gym almost every day. So safe to say her hugs are a bit brutal.

“You look amazing too, Rachel,” I say. Thankfully she lets go of me before she collapses my lungs. She grabs my hand and leads me inside the Uber. I can feel my heart rate increase as I am escorted inside the vehicle.

The car has a beige interior and looks pretty new. The aroma is that of mint or pine, I can’t really tell. It’s very well kept, at least compared to my own car. I swear I find a new stain in my seats every month or so.

“Where we headin’ next?” The gruff Uber driver asks. I can see him looking me dead in the eyes, which is a bit creepy so I stare down at the floor. I’m sure he’s a decent man, but why did he have to do that?

“Oakwood’s Bar. It should only be 10 miles away,” Rachel says as she buckles herself in. I feel her nudge my shoulder a second later, so I quickly buckle myself too. I guess I was too distracted by the driver.

“Been there a couple times. Should be there in no time,” The driver says. He drives off the curb and back on the road. The sound of the engine is clean, which has me think he takes care of it. He must be some kind of car nut or mechanic or something to have his car be this pristine. As I continue to think to myself, I lean my head back on the head rest and wait for our stop.

…

…

True to his word, we made it to the bar in 20 minutes or so. I wasn’t really paying attention though, cause I was staring out the window the whole time, thinking of alternative scenarios or plans to pay off my debt. Whilst I am somewhat confident of my ability to get a job as a reporter, if all else fails I can go for a different job or maybe a promotion at my current job. I work at a local supermarket up front, bagging and working the cash register for minimum wage. Maybe I could beg for a promotion?

But never mind that, it’s high time I get wasted. Rachel and I get out of the car and say our goodbyes to the Uber driver, at least for now. Who knows if we’ll have him again the second time we take an Uber home, but part of me would appreciate a new driver.

“Oh my god! I’m so excited! I’ve always wanted to try out this bar, let’s go inside!” Rachel says, barely containing her excitement. She grabs my arm and basically drags me forward with her to the front of the bar. Looking up at the bar, I instantly take in the details; Dark wooden architecture, smooth and clear glass, rustic atmosphere, and a bit of Irish Iconography. It’s quite clear that the place looks expensive to maintain, but hopefully the drinks are just as high quality.

We open the door and step inside to see more rustic style furniture and decor. Hard wood tables and stools with cotton cushions take up a lot of real-estate in the bar. Behind the bar counter is an entire wall of drinks and barrels of what I believe to be ****. Now I for sure now this place will have some good drinks.

Rachel and I walk up to the bar counter. Some of the other customers give us some confused looks, seemingly because of our choice of dress. A lot of the people here look like they just came out of the woods after a long day of cutting down trees, so maybe this place isn’t as fancy as I thought it would be.

“Hello ladies! Please take a seat,” The Bartender says as we get closer to our seats. He looks like an older gentleman, maybe in his 50’s with how his hair is balding on the top and his grey beard. He’s dressed in a fancy violet vest with a cute green bow tie. He has a bit of an Irish accent, but it’s definitely faint.

We take our seats on the bar stools. They are extremely comfortable for being a stool, really cushioning my tush. But as I go to adjust my sitting position, the Bartender begins to take our requests.

“What shall you ladies start your night with?” He asks. I look to Rachel for her answers because I’m not too well versed in ****. All I know is that it gets me drunk, and sometimes it actually tastes good, eventually.

“Hmmm, how about two Rum and Cokes and a two shots of your specialty drinks?” Rachel replies.

“Oh? We have a 50% off fireball for tonight! Would you like that for your specialty?” The Bartender asks. He seems very ecstatic to suggest the drink to us as his eyes open wide, staring at us intently.

“Fireballs? Geez, does this guy want us shit-faced in the next hour?” I think to myself. I’ve only had it once before back in college, and those things can mess you up!

I look over at Rachel, who seems conflicted on what to do. She punches her lip quizzically, which has me somewhat worried that she’s going to go for the fireball. “Unless she’s insane, there’s no way she’ll—”

“Yes sir! We’d love to have some!” Rachel says, to which the Bartender smiles wide with a bit of a mischievous twinge. I’m left with my jaw agape, unsure what to think. The Bartender then starts to prepare the drink. I watch his hands move incredibly quickly. He moves the bottles and glasses in a way that feels like he is moving them with his mind in some way, it’s that smooth.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish both our Rum and Cokes and the fireball shots. He slides them in front of us as he eagerly looks at me. It’s like he really wants me to drink this for reasons I'm not too sure of.

“Alright, Cheers!” Rachel says as she picks up her shot glass. She holds it up in the air next to me, waiting for me to do the same.

“We doing this? For real?” I ask.

“Of course we are! Do you wanna get drunk and have fun or not?” Rachel asks in a half joking way. Part of me wants to believe she pre-gamed before we met in the Uber, but I can't imagine Rachel being that into ****.

She does have a point though. I just want to get shit-faced and forget about my debt for at least a couple hours, and what better way to do that then a fireball shot or two?

So, with a bit more vigor, I take my shot glass and hold it up high like a mighty sword! I clank it against Rachel’s glass, and we both down the shot almost instantly.

Immediately, I feel the hot liquid going down my throat and into my gut! It feels like my esophagus is covered in gasoline already on fire, it burns that much. My tongue is similarly on fire, but at least I can taste the flavors of the drink, even if it’s a bit faint due to the pain. Rachel and I recoil once were done, with me gasping for air and squinting my eyes in reaction.

“Damn! That shit’s strong…” I muster to say through the pain. In the corner of my eye I see both the Bartender and Rachel laughing, which has me confused and a bit peeved.

“Oh come on Sophie, it’s just one shot. And we’re just getting started…” Rachel says with a bit of a sinister undertone that has me worried.

I decide to just ignore it and sip my glass of Rum and Coke. Compared to the fireball, this is like drinking pristine water! It tastes sweet and smooth, but has just enough punch to notice. I’m not one for hard ****, so I usually drink a lot in order to get drunk, but with what Rachel has planned tonight might be a bit different.

“So, what has you two ladies here on a Monday evening? Any kind of celebration?” The Bartender asks as he cleans a glass.

“Well, it’s not exactly a celebration. Kinda like a distraction in a way…” Rachel answers, to which I can already tell the Bartender is curious.

“Hmm, What is it? A breakup? A recent passing? Please, I’m just dying to know,” He says with a bit of spunk and sarcasm in his voice. I’d imagine he gets very bored at his job, especially with the clientele here being quite reserved.

“It’s about my debt. I gotta pay 100k…” I solemnly say with a glass of liquor up to my mouth, muffled by the glass. I can see him cringe in as I mention the amount I owe, which has me think he’s been through the same thing before.

“Yeesh, 100k quid! I’d pay good money to make me forget how much I owed in loans to pay for my first pub,” The Bartender says looking down at the glass he’s washing.

“Yep, but tonight we’re gonna forget all of that and drink!” Rachel says as she grabs my shoulder, hugging me closer to her. I’m not sure if she’s drunk already or just really enthusiastic, but that’s kinda why I like her so much.

“You can go job hunting again later in the morning, but now all you need to worry about is hydration and fun!” She says before downing her entire glass of Rum & Coke. Nevermind, I think she’s just drunk.

“Job hunting you say? If you’re looking for a job quickly, I’d recommend you use Craigslist!” The Bartender says.

“Craigslist? I thought that site was for selling and buying things?” I reply. I never really use this kind of sites to buy and sell things, especially since it’s so unregulated and all, but I didn’t know about some kind of job feature of the site.

“Yeah! A whole bunch of local and small businesses use Craigslist to post job openings. That’s how I got my first job here in America!” He says, his eyes looking off into the distance, almost as if he’s looking back in time, at least to me.

“Hmm, I’ll have to check it out, thanks Bartender!” I say.

“Enough job talk, let’s get another shot of fireball!” Rachel says loudly, attracting the attention of several others in the bar. With second hand embarrassment, I meekly agree to Rachel’s order of another round.

…

…

The night goes on for what I think is another 2 hours, with Rachel and I severely wasted, but surprisingly still conscious. Shot after shot, and drink after drink later, Rachel and I are basically tumbling out of the bar, clothes disheveled, hair messy, and only slightly visually impaired. It’s like I’m looking through the bottom of a beer bottle the way my sight is being altered, and everything around feels almost sped up.

The next half an hour feels like a blur as Rachel calls an Uber for us to drive home. The car ride can only be described as an amnesia roller coaster, as I can’t for the life of me remember what happens or even comprehend what happens as we sit in the back seat of this strangers car. The only thing I can really tell is that Rachel is awfully clingy, and a bit of a horn-dog as she grabs my breasts quite a lot.

But besides from that, I feel like I got instantly teleported to my apartment room from the bar as my thoughts finally catch up with reality somewhat. The moment I step inside, I take off my dress, leaving me in just my panties and socks.

Besides a headache and a lingering buzz, the only thing on my mind is the Craigslist thing the bartender told me about. If true, I can find a local news station that could hire me, and then I would be on my way to paying my loan and moving up in the world at the same time.

So I boot up my laptop and as it turns on I grab myself a bottle of water and chug it like my life depends on it. I notice the laptop has finally turned on, so I carelessly throw the bottle behind me and slump my way to the computer.

I tap away at my keyboard until I eventually make it to the website. The harsh white glow of the website only makes my headache worse, but I push through regardless.

I search up “reporter” into the search bar, and wait for it to load. I cross my fingers in anticipation for at least one result, and thankfully one shows up!

“NNN reporter… looks newsy enough…” I say, slurring my speech as I do so.

It says for me to attach a photo of myself in the email order for the chance to get an interview. I’m not sure of any news station that hires people like this, but to me this sounds easy enough to do.

So I attach a photo of me in college. It’s me in our theater club wearing a business suit for some kind of play I did back then. It looks cute, and mildly professional, besides it was the first one I found, and drunk Sophia isn’t putting in that much effort tonight.

Once the email is sent, I turn off my computer, get out of my chair and immediately turn to my bed, slamming face down into the sheets as I feel the smooth fabric against my mostly bare body. I gently fall asleep not that long after…