Fun with My Dad's Co-Worker

Chapter 2 - Target Sighted

As I get to the bar, I yell out to the bartender, "Hey, Petra!"

She turns around and smiles, seeing her favorite customer as I actually treat her like a person and not a robot that just fills drinks. She finishes the drink that she's making, sends it over to a person that clearly doesn't need another one, and skips over to me. She giggles and excitedly greets me, "Hey, Eren! How you've been?"

"Pretty good! Came here with Armin so he can try and learn how to properly socialize."

"Really? Never thought I would see Armin in a club or bar ever. I guess you really do change people." 

"I think you forgot the "for the better" part."

"Surrreee~" She drags out her words and looks at the counter.

"Hey!" I pout.

"I'm just fucking with you," She laughs and looks back at me, "Now, what would you like, Love?"

"I'll take a Tequila Sunrise."

"Shots or a cocktail?" She yells as she turns around to start making it.

"Mmm, I'll have a cocktail," I answer. I was planning on getting drunk, but I think I'll just be buzzed. I don't want to just suck anyone's dick tonight.

Luckily, Petra is the best in the business, so it's done in no time. My beautiful, ombre drink is placed in front of me with a straw. She leans on the counter and blows upward, to get her hair out of her face. As I take my first sip, she asks, "So, what kind of person are you preying on tonight?"

I roll my eyes and stop drinking. "God, Petra. You make me sound like a sexual predator. Can't a college student have a good time?" 

"Hey, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just wanna help you find some." 

Since Petra is a bartender and therefore, usually meets half of the club, at some point or another, she helps me. It sounds weird, but she's typically able to tell a person's personality based on the drink they order. I swear, she's like a Buzzfeed quiz.

"Well..." I trace the rim of my cup, "I wanna do something serious tonight. Like, something really hard and would require going to his house. Not just typical fucking in the bathroom."

She gasps and gets up in my face, squealing, "Like BDSM?!"

I lean back a little. "Well, not that far but something intense. Seen anybody that may fit the bill?"

Petra straightens herself out and thinks, tapping her finger on her chin. She shrugs and says, "None that I can think of. Well, actually there was-"

"Yo, bartender lady!" A rude asshole flags her over, "Get me some more shots."

She groans because she wants to slap them so hard but at the same time, she needs a job. She takes one more glance at me and mumbles, "Be right back." 

I continue to sip from my drink and before too long, the tasty toxin is gone. I lick my lips and then turn around, on the barstool. I decide to scan the club, trying to identify people that may fit the description of what I'm looking for. 

Then my eyes land on my blond-haired friend, talking to his crush. I scoff, as I should've known that Jean would be here. He probably goes to gay bars as much as I do. As much as I hate to admit it, Jean and I can be quite similar. From our tempers to our own opinions, it can surprise people when they find out that we hate each other since it seems like we would be good friends. 

Petra pops back over, in a huff. "You know what annoys me about working here?"

I spin around and answer, "The straight assholes that come here, pretending they're gay when in reality, they just want the drinks and to stare at lesbians while trying to 'convert' them?"