Bastard

the customer

    I work as a mixologist at a hotel bar on Wednesday thru Saturday nights. A variety of people come in and sit at the bar, ordering their pleasures.

    Some come and go, and some come in and have a seat and stay.  Some are with friends, some are always alone. Everyone is required to wear masks, yet of course they remove them to sip their drinks.

    Ever since I started working here I've grown to have regular customers who come in and make chatter. They talk and I listen, sometimes they make me laugh with their outrageous stories, or sometimes if I sense they're not feeling too hot I make them laugh.

   There are some who come in and sit and don't talk to me; they simply order their drinks, take them to a table, then watch me from time to time. I feel they don't want to be bothered.

    As an empath, I feel every one of these customers as I hand them their drinks. As they sit at the bar. As they sit at the tables. As they stare at me.

    Recently, there's been one customer whose piqued my interest. I saw her come in a few times and she always tries to have the same seat either at the bar or an adjacent table. Always orders the same thing, Hennessy with a twist of lemon. She sips her drink and smokes her Camel cigarettes. Camel😏

    As of right now, I can't really say why she's grabbed hold of my attention so. I can tell she wants to say something at times but she decides to keep quiet, just smiles occasionally in my direction. She sits and drinks as long as she pleases; usually those drinks last her a while. She just sips, as if letting time pass.

   Yes, I've watched her, as I do everyone who comes in. I like to make certain my customers are comfortable and pleased. But I don't know why I watch this one. I guess it's bcuz she doesn't come onto me like some do. Some have came in and sat at my bar and gotten shit faced drinking away just to have a reason to make small talk with me. But this one here just takes her drink from me, tips me and goes about her business. But she be watching me from time to time. Watching me watch her.

   Of course, I need not bother to mention that she is a melanin enchantress. Y'all should know by now that no other race whets my appetite. I'm not saying I plan on shooting my shot with her or anything; she just silently intrigues me.

    There have been white women who've come in and tried flirting with me but they've been unsuccessful and for nought. Although I'm required to be pleasant, when they get to speaking to me it goes in one ear and out the other. I have no time nor desire to listen to white women's worries.