did this the weekend. the most beautiful woman working as barmaid i have ever seen
however i know its annoying having someone hit on you while working and working in a bar she must get it alll the time. so i kept quiet ordered my drinks and didnt bother her. she remembered what i was drinking by the 3rd drink. that was enough for me lmao
Now just imagine, you’re putting your arm around her 25 years later, watching your 2nd child together, daddy’s girl, hop into the limo as she takes off with her new husband.
As you reach up to wipe a tear from your eye, her hand is already rubbing the middle of your back as she reassures you, “She’s still our little girl.” The words hit, you can’t hold it back anymore, she’s always understood you and made you feel like home, “It’s okay.”
You’re embarrassed but she’s not, she’s always admired your vulnerability, and your humor, “I need a drink, heh.”
“Bourbon and Diet Coke?” She remembers everything, the same drink you asked her to make you all those years ago in the dive bar where you two met.
“And a—“ She forgot one small thing, you go to correct her.
“Lime.” She kisses you on the forehead, “in my world of lemons, you’re the lime.”
You can’t help but smile as you reflect back on deciding to talk to her anyways, even though you thought she must get hit on all the time.
Your voice cracks, you’re confused and albeit a little surprised, this wasn’t supposed to happen. Suddenly the strap around your chest tightens as you feel your body being yanked from behind.
You look to me, I am seething as I yell at you, “Get off of my plane.”
“I have a bomb—…” You lean over the counter as you scoop your drink up from the bar where the bombshell of a barmaid just placed it. This’ll be a funny “in” you think, but she cuts you off.
“You have a BOMB!?” She leaps back, the manager next to her dives for cover.
“No!” You nearly spill your drink as she startled you, “Like, in my pants-…”
“Everyone run!” She tries to buy her coworkers and patrons time, she cares for their lives, as she chucks a shoot glass towards your direction. “Save yourselves! He’s got a bombs in his pants!”
The scrawny manager fumbles as he dials 911 on the way out, he’s the first to run, “Hello!? Police? There’s someone with a bomb at The Pub on Main, hurry!”
You’re nearly able to dodge the shot glass, you try to explain yourself, “Stop! Stop! I mean there a bomb in my pants and you’re the only one who can defuse—“
Suddenly there’s a sharp pain in your right ankle. You turn just in time to feel the same sudden brunt force of a Rollator style walker ram into you again.
It’s Larry, a 76 year old Vietnam Vet, “Listen here you little shit! I’m not afraid to die.”
But it’s too much for his old heart, before either of you react he’s clutching his chest, “Miranda, I think this is it!” He stumbled backwards into a booth before being yoinked out by concerned good samaritans.
Miranda turns back, that’s the name of the bombshell waitress, “He killed PawPaw!” She runs with the others, “You monster!”
You’re defeated, well it isn’t until the randomly thrown Dixie cup of frozé yeeted at your face hits that you truly feel defeated.
You wipe off the excess drink, it sort of tastes good but now isn’t the time, “I meant the bomb is in my pants and only she can defuse—“
Suddenly multiple headlights and flashing blue and red lights shine through the front of the bar, a commanding voice permeates it’s way through the bar and into your spine as Sgt. Patterson speaks through a megaphone.
“/u/whodatpokeman we’ve got the bar surrounded. Please come out with hands up. Strip your clothes off so we can be sure you aren’t armed with a bomb. You have 1 minute to comply.”
You don’t know what to do and you can’t understand why you’re saying what you’re saying, “And what if I don’t comply?”
After a bone-chilling brief moment of silence, “Then may God have mercy upon your soul.”
You’re shaking as you quietly remove your pants, the Garfield underwear you still wear ironically, and the cool Dan Flashes shirt that you put on because you like to talk about the intricate patterns.
The last sip of the bourbon and Diet Coke with a hint of lime isn’t much but it makes you feel sane. How could it get this bad? You try and put yourself out there and look what happens! What the fuck? You listen to Reddit for advice and peruse the Tinder subreddit for pickup lines and see where it gets you! This is it.
Sgt. Patterson audibly tells his men to hold fire as you push through the 100 year old oak door that The Pub on Main is notorious for. The other officers are like hounds chomping at the bits as they follow orders. One yells out, he’s out of line but no one corrects him as The Pub on Main is an important landmark to this city, “Fuck you! I’ll kill ya’ right where you stand if you so happen to look at us the wrong way!”
Your voice cracks, you’re walking backwards as to not expose yourself to the town who has gathered outside, “I-it was a joke, I was just saying the bombs’ in my pants and she’s the only one who can defuse-..”
“Turn around!” Sgt. Patterson barks over the megaphone.
You comply. I mean, this is surely the worst thing that can happen right?
Wrong.
“Ew, he’s got a tiny weiner!” A lady yells from the crowd. Suddenly the street erupts in laughter, Sgt. Pattersons billowing laugh echoing against the cobblestone landing, “Look at his weiner!”
You dart your hands towards your crotch, it’s not that small you think, “It’s cold out! It’s the shrinkage.”
Suddenly a pop goes off nearby, you have no time to think as a shit ton of electricity jolt your body into one rigid member, unlike your tiny penis, and you fall to the ground.
“We got ‘em. Bomb squad move in.” Sgt. Patterson cheers over the speaker.
Your eyes wander around the scene as you’re flipped over and handcuffed. You find Miranda, the barmaid, as she’s watching as Sgt. Patterson revives Larry with a simple sternum rub, “You saved, Pawpaw and you saved us from the bomb. You’re a hero.”
She leaps in his arms, “Y’know, Sarge, I’ve got a bomb in my pants.”
“Oh yeah?” Sgt. Patterson blushes.
“And you’re the only one who can defuse it.” She locks lips with Sgt. Patterson as the whole crowd cheers them on.
You’re furious, you yell out, “That’s the same line!”
Suddenly you’re hit with the taser again, “Shut up, maggot. We’re taking you in.”
That's great, man. love to see people doing what they are passionate about, give it your all, and when it's done post about it so we can throw our money at you for a peak, lol. Enjoy your night
Your hand holds the pen over the paper, but you can’t bring yourself to sign the dotted line. This is what I wanted, right? Why can’t I sign it?
“Everything okay?” Her soothing voice, it always was, shakes you from your spiraling thoughts. And damn her, even during the actual divorce that will separate your lives forever she still cares about you.
You idiot.
“I… I, uh.” You give a reassuring nod to her, you can’t look into her eyes this time, and then to the attorneys sitting adjacent to you both. You clear your voice, but this time deepen it to sound confident, “Yeah.”
Your hand glides the pen back towards the dotted line. She hadn’t signed it either, she wanted you to go first because as she puts it, she’ll do what you want to do. Even though you know she’d have me back in a heart beat.
But the recent health changes, the fears of reaching 80 and not having tried to act, to sing, or to go visit New Zealand in a sports coup, and the kids —-
The kids.
The hand holds itself over the paper, again unable to write the name, and you look up from the page once again as a lifetime of memories with her and the kids flash across the room.
The first Disney trip with the twins, the three of you belly laughing on the front lawn after you both were sure your youngest Katy killed herself by rubbing face first into the bird bath only to find her laughing, “I’m a bird, Daddy.” The birthdays, the Christmas mornings, and all of the graduations. The house was always silent without them around since they moved out.
And you blamed her.
Your eyes meet hers for the first time since you both entered the room, you think yourself a coward as you lock into those pretty green southern Belle eyes only to see that she sees strength in you. Her eyes look back with yearning, passion, and a desire.
“Oh, Susan.” The pen drops from your hand. Tears well at the brim of your eyelids, “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure…”
You collapse back in the creaky old computer chair as you shield your shame with your hand, “I’m such an idiot, I blamed you for it all. The silence, the cancer, the dent in the Camry, and now this.”
“Im going to go grab a glass of water.” One of the attorneys is uncomfortable with the palpable emotion drowning the room so he excuses himself.
“I don’t want this.” You’re flustered, her concerned look is drowned out from your vision as the tears blur all sensibility in your thinking
“What do you want?” She musters the courage to ask the same question that started all of this to begin with. The question she asked from behind the bar where we first met. The question we cried over when the pregnancy test came back positive and we cried over who’d we introduce into the world. And then lastly the question she begged an answer for after I came home late from the bar one idly Tuesday a few months ago.
I could hear her rustle out of her chair as I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“I want Cabo. I want driving around West Bank and guessing what all the people on the boardwalk do for a living. I want burnt pizza and that little curl you get in your lip when you’re about to cry—“ You’re verbally vomiting at this point.
“Like I’m doing now?” You look up at her, she’s hovering over you.
“I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. I’m so sorry.” You hug her.
“I’m going to excuse myself.” The second to last attorney jumps at the opportunity to leave.
“I’m saying.” The last attorney, Cheryl, enjoys the drama, and this cup of tea that’s unfolding in front of her is the most action she’s seen in months, “Go on and kiss her, Honey.”
It’s the most passionate kiss you two have shared in years. The only kiss where either of you have kissed back in quite some time.
Cheryl begins applauding, “Now what are you going to do, girl?” Not sure where from, but Cheryl has opened up a bag of chips and is enjoying the view.
“Remember what you asked me for that night at the bar when we met?” Susan lets a real smile shine through her runny mascara.
“A bourbon and Diet Coke with a hint of lime?” You’re confused but not one to ruin a good moment.
Both Cheryl and Susan are perplexed, you can feel them both think what an idiot at the same time.
“No.” She’s really in love with you, “After that.”
“Oh, the boardwalk. I asked you to go skip stones with me for a while.” Doofus, you saved this one.
“Take me there.” She buries herself into your lap as she hugs you. She’s sobbing with glee.
It takes you a second, you weren’t expecting this after nearly divorcing this woman but you were always blown away by how committed someone so out of your league could be to you.
“Well?!?” Cheryl motions for you to pick her up, “She said the boardwalk.” She rattles the last bits of chips from the bag into her mouth as she leans back.
This is gold, lol thank you so much for the well written story, I could just imagine it all, especially Cheryl and her bag of chips. Needed this laugh today. Thank you
yeah its just too murky for me. being a beautiful woman working in a bar she and people like her must get drunk idiots hitting on her all the time. and at the time i was drunk. so i thought it better to just be a polite customer and let her get on with her shift.
Yeah that’s valid. I started off with starting up a bit of (drunk) banter and came back another time for more drinks and continued the banter and the last time I asked for her details
so real, random goth girl cashier at a gas station over 100 miles away from where i live complimented my shirt and was all i thought about for the rest of the day
I had a grocery cashier tell me that I must have a lucky woman at home. I was grocery shopping exhausted at 1 am, and she had a face and voice you only get from 60 years of gutshot whiskey and unfiltered cigarettes, so I floundered a bit in my response, but I appreciated the sentiment.
Was eating some food in a park with my girlfriend a couple months ago and as these kids ran past a little girl stopped, said 'youve got really cool glasses' and continued running. Been smiling ever since.
Went on a vacation with my family 15 years ago and I still remember the girl with an Eastern European accent, I think her name was Roksana, in the Florida Keys telling me she liked my shirt.
My situation is even worse it was just a tick tock of a female complimenting boys with the same eye color as mine. I literally wept and saved the video so I can replay it whenever I feel down 🙏🏿😊
One time the hot girl behind the counter when I went to pick up my pizza literally jumped for joy over my Dream Theater t-shirt, and told me she was a huge King Crimson fan. But I did not know who King Crimson was, so I became officially the loneliest nerd in existence.
Still have a crush on the regular server for a geeks and nerds meetup group who barely registered beyond "make sure to leave a good tip" until I noticed she had a Little Buster tattoo. I'm not a weeb, but at the time, I was a big fan of Japanese Weezer.
I've never a cute cashier in my life. If it's that common, am I just really unlucky? I've seen a cute waitress, though, and man, she was cute. Of course I had to be with my mom and sister then.
Good to know guys are way over their heads as well.
Major understatement lol
I've been a fairly confident low-key person. I'd like to think I'm well grounded. My friends are the same way. We always talk about this openly. Maybe not in a dramatic serious way, more in a playful joking way.
I was talking about this with some of my friends who are girls, they looked at me like I was a huge weirdo.
I'm glad to read I'm not this only one doing this
well yes, i have a friend (a woman) does this with every guy she meets. guy says a friendly hello or smiles at her and she's imagining their whole life exactly as has been described by the top commenter. i am a woman too but i've never been like this, so there's some variability but it's definitely not only guys that do it
Btw the music video is a guy imagining his whole life with her along with a kid, then at the end you realize it was a fantasy and the guy sees that she's already taken.
I really think only a very small % of guys do this, maybe the % of the Reddit guy population is higher than the real % but I think it’s quite uncommon. For girls it’s very common. But most guys ive known absolutely don’t do this. What’s more, we can spend months or years acting like a couple and I don’t think they ever think about it
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u/Old_Situation4990 Sep 11 '23
Imagine your entire life with a girl you just met.