Her name was Jenna. Jenna Bakers. She didn't have a normal childhood like 90% of her friends did. Since as a young girl she had to learn how to survive in the streets. In the Latino ghetto she lived in she learned a lot, steal, lie and break many he...
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LATER THAT DAY
While sitting at the bar she waited patiently for her cocktail she ordered. The bartender started to work on her Manhattan, shaking the fluids all together in the cocktail shaker. »Are you new here?«, the male bartender suddenly asked. Jenna raised an eyebrow, not knowing how to answer. Does he know her or something? »Yeah. How did you know?«, she asked quite unsure, trying to size him up. »Meh. Never seen you around here uhh.. in that bar.«, he answered shrugging it off, not giving a fuck about her in reality.
She raised both eyebrows now, her expression surprised with a little hint of relief. »Ah, Uhm. Yeah yeah, I'm a new customer. But don't get used to my presence tho, it's basically a one night stand I'm going to have here with da bar.«, she chuckled, clearly being entertained by her own joke. »Wow, that was horrible. Don't save it up for next time.«, he gave her a slightly disgusted look on his face, pouring the mix into a martini glass. »Well, that'll be 20 bucks. You better tip me for that bad joke.«
»greedy fucker...«, she murmured under her breath. Pulling herself back together she answered »yeah man, no problem. Wait a sec.«, giving him a wait gesture with her hand, she fumbled in her back pockets for the cash. She dug deeper into her pockets, like some miner digging for gold. »Listen lady, if you have nothing to pay with, just let this dude rent you for a fuck so I don't have to call the cops.«, he said, slowly grabbing the martini glass back. »no interest.«, the man quickly answered, lying on the table, his arms pillowing his head. She looked down next to her, finding the clearly drunk man that someone told her to sell her body to.
He was in a suit, hair lightly dipped in hair gel and a strong manly cologne was hitting against her face. Furrowing her eyebrows she turned her head back to the young bartender. »Dude, watch your mouth. It wouldn't surprise me that you're not getting any bitches on your dick with that attitude of yours.«, she bitterly said into his face and had already given up looking for the money »just stay here, no cops, no anything. I'll be right back so quit pussying around.«, she stood up, making her way to the door. »Also don't throw it away. Gimme 2 minutes.«, Jenna yelled, sprinting outside to the spot she hid her evidences.
»no, no, no, No. son of a bitch!«, she slurred to herself, running towards to the big trash cans Only to see the garbage truck drive past her. She grabbed her hair in despair, realizing she just lost $120. Well, it's not a big deal of course, after all she had boobies with the cost of a maskon and yacht combined. But she needed that money to buy herself a phone, to call her buddy from the other side of the world. She rubbed angrily her nose bridge, trying to process this whole scenery. »puhhh...«, she loudly exhaled, making her cheeks blow up, before she made her way back to the bar.
»Screw that fucking manhattan.«, Jenna said, hitting the doors open. Everybody's attention turned to her for a second, but they quickly turned back to their original conversations. »I think it's your lucky day, this man just spent the drink for you. Even tipped me $20 more.«, the bartender pointed to the man in front of him, smiling at himself. »don't get your wiener excited.«, she said, being pissed about the lost money. The man behind the bar rolled his eyes, mumbling something negative about her under his breath. With slow steps and heavy breathing she sat her fatass beside the handsome man from earlier. She gulped the Manhattan down, letting it scratch all the right spots in her throat. »no thank you? Rude.«, the man turned his head up to her, still lying on the table. »it's not like I begged for it.«, Jenna rolled her eyes, drinking the last drops of her drink. »yeah, but you definitely needed my help.«, he chuckled with a hidden rasp in his voice, letting his alcohol-breath swim around her.
She turned her gaze to him, slamming the glass against the counter. »thank you so much mister...«, she said in a playful way, hinting him to say his last name. The man understood. »Micheal. Michael de Santa.«, he burped. »thank you so much for helping a little kid like me, Mr. De Santa claus. I would literally be starving to death by now if your richass wouldn't save me.«, she worshipped him jokingly. Michael was slightly getting amused by it, chuckling against the table. »my god, my savior, my knight in shini-«, she continued but he cut her off. »shut it. I get it alight?«, he gave her a drunk laugh. She chuckled at herself by her foolish behavior for a moment before minding her own business again.
She read trough the menu »Whiskey sour... Spritz... Bau- Bevo- Ayo man, what's a Boulevard-", she turned her head back to him only getting greeted by him snoring into her direction. She said nothing. Instead she studied him, every single hair string, every pore and even the things around him noticing his jacket hanging on his chair. She grinned to herself devilishly in her mind like in those cliche cartoon thief moments. Checking if anybody's watching she quietly snuck behind him, grabbing into his pockets. Wiggling her hand around a few times she removed her hand out of the jacket, exposing a handful of banknotes. Smiling she stuffed every note into her pants, slowly on the way to fuck off outta the bar.
