The Guily Ones

The Great Escape

We entered the bar around 9:30 PM – not exactly early anymore. To shake off the shock from earlier, I headed straight for the counter.

Alcohol. My go-to solution for things that were inexplicable or too confusing. Despite the crowd and noise, I didn't have any trouble catching the bartender's attention.

As soon as I approached the counter, the roughly 30-year-old man – tan, dark hair, and beautiful brown eyes with pearly white teeth – had turned away from his previous customers and was now eyeing me with barely disguised interest. "Hey there, gorgeous, what can I get you?"

I brushed off his suggestive tone, ignored his dirty looks, and placed my order.

"Bourbon. Neat."

He smirked and nodded. He was actually quite cute, but a bit too aware of it. When he slid my drink over with a wink, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Sookie and Sam had now also navigated through the crowd and appeared beside me.

"Wow, Ash, you made it to the bar pretty quick!"

"Let's just call it efficient. Otherwise, it sounds like I have a problem. Plus, you two need to order something too. Drinking alone isn't a good sign..."

Sookie laughed, and a smirk appeared on Sam's lips too. "Well, in that case..."

Sookie turned her attention fully to the bar, and like magic, the bartender reappeared, grinning broadly at her. Sookie returned the grin much friendlier than I had before.

"Hi, a Gin and Tonic for me, please, if it's not too much trouble," she requested with perfect Southern charm.

"And a beer for me!" Sam chimed in quickly and far less Southern, before the Casanova behind the bar could disappear again to the next group of girls. Overall, Sam never really seemed like a true "Southerner" to me. His behavior got me thinking. I furrowed my brow.

"Say, Sam, where exactly are you from?"

"Didn't your mom teach you? I was brought by the stork...", he began to deflect the topic. I rolled my eyes and rephrased my question more directly.

"I don't mean that, you goof. I was just wondering why you're not like...," I gestured around, then pointed to our prime example, Sookie, "Southern."

He shrugged. "I'm not from around here!"

"And where from, then?"

"Here and there!"

"That's cryptic!"

"That was literally your answer at your job interview, Ash!" he replied, raising an eyebrow in admonition. So, I dropped the subject and took another big sip of bourbon. It burned warmly on its way down.

"Yeah... alright." I turned to my friend. Sookie glanced around the bar, her brow furrowed. I followed her gaze.

Sure, this wasn't necessarily a trendy New York scene club, but those were always too contrived for my taste anyway. Instead, the interior was cozy wood paneling adorned with various trophies from passing-through country singers. Round tables had been cleared to the edges of the room, full of flirtatious and drunken townies, dressed in the fashion of the last decade. Our little trio definitely lowered the age-average too. Was that Sookie's problem?

"If it stays this crowded, we won't have a chance to dance tonight!" she grumbled, answering my unspoken question, before being interrupted by the bartender overly eager.

"I'd dance with you anytime, sweetheart!" he cooed in Sookie's direction, as he pushed her ordered drink across the counter "It's on the house!"

Sam rolled his eyes and paid for his beer.