A Life Unlived

"I can't even taste the vodka in this!" I stare down my nose at the girl currently leaning across the sticky bar, chest first and with her lower lip stuck out. I know where she was trying to draw my eye, but all I could focus on was how sticky her lip gloss looked. "Can't you give me a little extra?""I can, but I'm going to charge you for it. I put the amount of vodka I was supposed to in your drink." Her light blue eyes crinkle up and the pouty look disappears. My eyes fixate on the way her foundation settles into her forehead lines when she makes that "I just smelled a fart" face that she's making at me now. It was becoming more and more clear to me exactly what kind of person she was."Seriously?" She scoffs, and turns on her heel, melting into the crowd of people with her appropriately mixed drink. I roll my eyes a little at her attitude. The world is not your oyster, woman."You're cruel." My gaze flicks to my right, where my co-worker, Hart is sneaking under my arms to steal limes from my side of the bar."Why am I forced to pay for your laziness?" I sigh as his dirty bare hands dig into my already depleted bucket of sliced fruit. The way this club is set up, there's a giant circle shaped bar in the middle of everything, on a raised platform with two different entries to two different sides of the bar. I worked one while someone else, usually the man currently stealing from me, worked the other."Because I'm forced to deal with the women you make cry." I scoff again, watching as he backs away a little, his prize in hand. I look down at him, glaring at the shit eating grin on his face. He had a fair point though. Hart is much softer with people than I am, he's accommodating to every silly whim they have, whether it be extra vodka in their drink for free, or access to his home and heart.He's soft.And it gets him hurt, over and over again.Still.I would have a lot more customer complaints against me if not for his wonderful diffusing abilities."Just go away." I turn away from him, but not before seeing him salute me with his free hand.I roll my eyes, returning my focus to the older pair of men standing at the bar now."What can I get you?" I ask them in the same even tone I always use with customers.This is what most of my nights consist of.I work in a bar downtown to pass my time and earn a living, and to keep me from going total hermit and locking myself in my house.It's fine, I guess.I make good money, especially in tips. Despite the fact that I am a little cold with people from time to time, there are a good number of women and men alike who don't seem to mind it at all. They melt at the disgusted glares I shoot at them, no matter how much malice I lace in. Can't they see I genuinely find their affection for me disturbing? They don't know me. What if I'm a serial killer? What if I pick my nose and eat what comes out? What if I'm a racist?I find it incredibly disturbing the amount of people who have tried to pick me up once I've gotten off work.I don't crave that kind of affection that badly. I guess it's hard for me to understand how other people can. I get horny, I'm just a person, but I've never been so worked up I waited for some poor girl outside her job in the dark parking lot and told her we were born to be lovers. I've certainly had that happen to me, and I can tell you one thing for sure, it did not have the effect the woman was hoping for."That'll be twelve seventy-five." I take the man's card from him and stick it in the reader below the counter." Thanks." I say once it's been approved. He nods, takes back his card, and he and his companion return to the crowd of people mushing together in the center of the room. A few of them were dancing to the loud music floating through the speakers. It was a remix of some popular song. I didn't care for it, but Hart never let anyone else have control of the music when he was working. It is what it is; it's not like I have anything better to play anyways."What can I get you?" I meet the wide eyes of what looks like a freshly turned twenty-one-year-old girl. She was bouncing up and down a little, and had her ID clutched tightly to her chest."I would like a long island iced tea, please." She smiles and holds her ID out to me. She has short black hair, cut in a bob with straight bangs that covered most of her forehead. Her eyes were dark and her skin pale. She wore a tight turtleneck and a skirt that stopped a couple inches above her knees. She was kind of cute, to be honest. Very pretty, and very out of place. She wasn't a regular, that much was clear to me. I think it's spring break; maybe she's an out of towner?"Ah, happy birthday." Sure enough, she literally turned twenty-one thirty minutes ago. She smiles."Thanks." I hold her ID out to her between two fingers, scanning her up and down as I do. She blushes a little, and I deflate. Be more wary of me. You don't know me."Do you know what's in these?" I ask, grabbing a bottle of rum from behind me and a jigger from the tray under the counter.She shakes her head. "It's what my mom always used to order. I always wanted to try one when I was little." She shrugs a little. I laugh, and her eyes dart away nervously. You should watch me make your drink. What if I'm a bad person and take advantage of your naivety? I could easily put something in this.People are far too quick to trust."Well." I say as I set a tall glass on the counter in front of her, sticking a straw in and smiling a little. "These are quite strong. So be careful." She smiles, takes her drink, and leaves without looking at me again. I definitely made her nervous.Wasn't trying to. Honestly, I think she just reminded me of someone.