Standing at the bar counter as I mull over which dark rum I would prefer to down in a mixed drink.
I was looking for something on the lighter side: anything between 17% to 21% alcohol content.
Every rum I inquired about was 40% content of alcohol, way too much for my blood [I’m a light drinker].
I specifically wanted a glass of a specific coconut rum [not Malibu] mixed with cola, which made for a smooth ride down my system. But they’d ran out of that coconut rum, so I disgruntledly settled for a malted-color beer (a stout).
Before taking my first swig (for the night), I looked up and locked eyes with a girl drinking a beer, seated beside the wall.
Nothing particularly stood out which attracted me to her, besides being the only approachable girl in the establishment, while every other chick was either un-shapely or unsightly.
Within a split second upon locking eyes, I removed the beer bottle from my lips and approached her.
Me: “I’m gonna be honest with you”
Girl: “Honestly is good”
Me: “You are the sexiest girl in this bar so I’m compelled to approach”
Usually, I expect the girl to either blush uncontrollably, or laugh due to being put on the spot.
Girl: “Why thanks”
In hindsight, her composure in the face of my usual charms, now makes sense that she’s trained in masking her emotions being an undercover cop.
She tried to maintain a professional stance as much as possible.
Me: “I don’t usually approach girls in bars, but you caught my eyes. Why is that”?
Girl: “I’m just a cool chick. Very down to Earth. Nothing extraordinary or flashy”.
Me: “I like that. As a regular, it’s my first time seeing you here”
Girl: “My 2nd time here”
Me: “By the way, you look like you could dance. Since that’s the case, I’m just letting you know right now, before the night ends, we’re gonna lock hips and dance away”
She cracks a smile.
Me: “You could dance right? Correct me if I’m wrong? I don’t know to misjudge you”
Girl: “Nah it’s okay. I wouldn’t say I’m a dancer. But I can try a little thing”.
Me: “Finally we have something in common because I can’t dance worth shit! Anyway, what do you plan on getting into for the night”?
Girl: “Just work. I’m here working”
I got thrown off when she mentioned “here working”. She doesn’t seem like a bartender, so I wondered what she meant by “here working”.
Me: “Working? What do you mean? You don’t seem like a bartender to me”
Girl: “No. I’m an undercover cop”.
She pulls out her badge and tells me she’s officer so and so.
By the way, this wasn’t done in an authoritative or threatening manner.
Little did she know though, I have a mean fetish for women of the law. So if she intended to make me run for the hills by pulling a badge; she was awfully mistaking!
I kept chatting her up, when most guys would’ve thrown in the towel upon revelation that they were talking to someone of the law.
After about 5 more minutes of spirited chitchat, in accordance with my usual routine of bouncing and coming back to game the girl some more, I looked to do just that.
Me: “I’m gonna stretch my legs a little around the bar since I just got out the house and feeling a bit tight. We’ll catch up in just a bit”.
Girl: “Ketchup with a little mustard”.
I didn’t quite hear her, plus the idiom flew over my head.
Me: “What was that”?
Girl: “I said ketchup with a little mustard on the side”.
Me: “But don’t put any mustard on my burger though. I hate it”!
Girl: “Me too”!
I rolled off and looked to return to game her up some more.
Unfortunately, by the time I made my way back around to resume the FMAC [Find, Meet, Attract, Close]; she vanished.
Hopefully I’ll bump into her again next weekend since she did tell me that this was her 2nd. consecutive week at this joint.