I’d be out in a black mini skirt and a crop top, hanging out at the bar by myself, sipping on a Teeling on the rocks. They’d sit down next to me, maybe ignore me for a bit.
Maybe after they’ve warmed up with a round and maybe a few shots, one would finally turn to talk to me. He’d scoot over a seat, put his arm on the back of mine, and exude that stupid charming swagger that younger guys usually have.
He’d insist on me taking a shot with them. I, being a girl that doesn’t like to say no, accept of course. They’d convince me to go with them to another bar except once I got into the car, one would suggest going back to their apartment instead. I’d hesitate briefly, pretend to be shy. I’m sure my thighs would already be slick.