Post by itsmilada on Apr 9, 2012 17:45:52 GMT -5
Milada's thicker accent rang out through the bar as she tossed a drink down the counter. "That's four for you, Aaron, slow it down." She teased, sending him a friendly wink. It was almost nine, more specifically a half past eight, and the customers were getting rowdy. Milada was scheduled to close and the thought of it made her sigh in pre-exhaustion. She didn't mind closing, it was the shooing of drunken customers that made her job difficult.
With ease, she mixed up a few drinks that a table had ordered. Peeking over the head of a few taller males, she spotted them talking within themselves and she ran her tongue across her cheek slowly. She assumed they were professors or business workers of some persuasion- they seemed to be dressed a little more proper than the rest. Milada pulled her drinks onto a tray, slipped out from behind the counter, and made her way over with a big smile.
"Here you go- three chosen viles of poison for each of you." She grinned with a playful bare of her teeth, slipping the tray up under her arm. "I hope everything is to your liking. Thought I'd save you the trouble and bring them over to you myself." With a nod, she backed up and turned on her heels, balancing her tray on her head now, as she walked. She was the highlight on the weekends- most customers had a fun time and never went without a good conversation, no matter the topic.
As she was about to slip inside the little door between the bar and the public, a hand snaked around her waist and she looked over at an older- aged by about 10 or so years more than she- with a sly grin on his lips. Milada played it off and tugged herself hard from his grasp. "I'm only here to serve you drinks. Nothing more." She scorned lightly and narrowed her gaze on him. He rolled his eyes and took his drink, getting up from his chair. Milada always seemed to have a handsy drunk on her watch most weekends.
She took a slow look around the bar and shook her head. Did these people not have families to go home to? Did they just not care? It wasn't too much thought- she never judged her customers- it wasn't right for her to without some background knowledge. Sometimes people told her their life stories in here- all their troubles and worries. Of course she talked back and she always listened. A snap back to reality occurred and she pulled her hair over one shoulder, her eyes settling on a few new customers. Another order was called as she bent down to grab a few special bottles and she popped right back up. "I'll hop right on that!" And there was her big smile again.
With ease, she mixed up a few drinks that a table had ordered. Peeking over the head of a few taller males, she spotted them talking within themselves and she ran her tongue across her cheek slowly. She assumed they were professors or business workers of some persuasion- they seemed to be dressed a little more proper than the rest. Milada pulled her drinks onto a tray, slipped out from behind the counter, and made her way over with a big smile.
"Here you go- three chosen viles of poison for each of you." She grinned with a playful bare of her teeth, slipping the tray up under her arm. "I hope everything is to your liking. Thought I'd save you the trouble and bring them over to you myself." With a nod, she backed up and turned on her heels, balancing her tray on her head now, as she walked. She was the highlight on the weekends- most customers had a fun time and never went without a good conversation, no matter the topic.
As she was about to slip inside the little door between the bar and the public, a hand snaked around her waist and she looked over at an older- aged by about 10 or so years more than she- with a sly grin on his lips. Milada played it off and tugged herself hard from his grasp. "I'm only here to serve you drinks. Nothing more." She scorned lightly and narrowed her gaze on him. He rolled his eyes and took his drink, getting up from his chair. Milada always seemed to have a handsy drunk on her watch most weekends.
She took a slow look around the bar and shook her head. Did these people not have families to go home to? Did they just not care? It wasn't too much thought- she never judged her customers- it wasn't right for her to without some background knowledge. Sometimes people told her their life stories in here- all their troubles and worries. Of course she talked back and she always listened. A snap back to reality occurred and she pulled her hair over one shoulder, her eyes settling on a few new customers. Another order was called as she bent down to grab a few special bottles and she popped right back up. "I'll hop right on that!" And there was her big smile again.