Red Maple

[serpent1ne]

The day after the Superbowl was generally quiet at the Red Maple Saloon. Most people had blown their cash and at least a week’s worth of calories on the championship game. A few fans might wander in to lick their wounds, but Boston was light on both Broncos and Panthers enthusiasts. As such, Ruby had plenty of time to lean on the bar and crack open peanuts. The bartender’s uniform consisted of a black tank top with a tree screen-printed on the front, jeans, and pair of cowgirl boots. A silver feather pendant dangled in her cleavage. An expensive jukebox played a medley of classic rock hits in the corner. The opening notes of the Eagles’ hit “I Can’t Tell You Why” added to her sense of lethargy.

Comments

[alone_lily]

“I don’t know. People conspire against me?” she said as she watched the bartender mix her drink until her phone chimed indicating she had a text. She read it, and then sent back a quick reply. By then her drink was in front of her. “Actually they do allow small dogs, but really toy dogs are not my thing. They are all bark, no bite.”

She reached for her glass and then noticed the sugared rim. “Can you make another? This is my fault, and I’ll pay for it, but I prefer my Sidecar without the sugar," paused for a beat. "I’m not a sweet.”

[serpent1ne]

'Well aren't we high maintenance?'

Ruby considered showing the brunette a fun trick one could perform with a napkin (such useful things), but she managed to take the glass and pivot away before the look on her face revealed itself. The bartender wasn't the type to admit fault, or acknowledge when a customer had made a reasonable request. After several years in the service industry, she had learned that silent, speedy acquiescence was a decent substitute.

In her personal life, she walked a fine line between not giving a fuck enough to make a complaint and making one so egregious that employees contemplated suicide afterward. At least this ritzy chick had balls enough to voice an objection, when many women would shrivel up and just take it, whatever it may be, in weak-willed misery. Thus Ruby's temporary miff dissolved.

"Neither am I," she said, pulling a fresh glass and giving the other half of the lemon a healthy squeeze. "But you know what? Sweet is overrated." Orange liqueur and brandy combined with the citrus and she poured the spirits again. "No charge."

She tipped her head back and drank the rejected cocktail in three swallows.

[alone_lily]

“Behind sweetness hides true evil,” she quoted a mental patient. “Those are the words from a true poet.” Lily observed the bartender while she mixed the second drink, and smiled when she placed the drink in front of her. “Thank you, Sweetie,” she added the last part in fun.

Before she could taste her new drink, the lady behind the bar had finished the other. “Damn,” she said impressed. Finally, she took a long sip. "It's perfect."

Her phone notified her again that she received another text message. She quickly lifted her phone off the bar, and read the message. Shook her head, and just place the phone face down again on the bar.

[serpent1ne]

"Funny. That's exactly how I feel about righteousness." There were plenty in her familial circle who wore it like a gilded crown. Ironic, considering the forces that had ventured under that roof and had their way. Ruby placed her glass aside for later cleaning and brushed at a piece of peanut shell on the thigh of her jeans. On her wrist, a black leather bracelet clacked with red stones. "What's the matter, your boss blowing up your phone?"

[alone_lily]

“My publisher, she’s unhappy.” Lily took a long sip before she continued. “Really, she’s a bit selfish. The subject for my proposed book killed himself this morning. I can’t raise someone from the dead. It’s out of my hands.”

“I should have saw this coming,” she shook her head, thinking to herself, I’m a psychologist. “I was distracted, became obsessed with all things about ghosts. Then the fucking bastard hung himself. What the fuck am I going to do now?”