Imagines | Reservoir Dogs

How You Meet (Preference)

a/n: this ones a bit longer so thats my excuse for ghosting you guys

Mr. Brown: You met at a club downtown. Your workplace was hosting an end-of-quarter sales celebration, which you begrudgingly agreed to go to. Seeing your middle-aged coworkers drunk was unbearable enough; knowing they'd pressure you into joining them was a whole new level. You all showed up in your work clothes, which relieved you somewhat of your misery—you thought it'd be weird to show up to a work-related event in some skimpy nighttime getup.

For a majority of the time, you sat in the corner sipping a mojito and avoiding most of the conversation—something about your boss's wife. Of course you spoke when they encouraged you to, but you tried not to join in if it wasn't necessary. At some point your drink was starting to wear off, the melted ice cubes diluting what little was left in the bottom. You finished off the watered down cocktail and got up to order another.

When you got to the bar, you waited impatiently for another girl to ask for a piña colada, the words stumbling as they came out of her mouth. The glazed look in her eyes hinted alcohol was not the only vice she gave into that night. As you stood at the counter, a few feet away from her, a young man jumped between the two of you, hopping up onto the barstool. He drummed his hands on the counter as he watched the bartender pour the girl's drink before turning to look at you casually, only he paused in pleasant surprise at what he saw.

"Well hi," he said, leaning his elbow on the bar. "You here with the cubicle party?"

You turned to look at the corner, your coworkers tipsy in their button downs and pencil skirts. Looking back at him, you nodded and laughed a little, happy to finally have a reason to avoid them.

"Looks like you're having a blast. What're you drinking there?"

You hold up your empty cup. "Strawberry mojito. Have you tried it?"

"Can't say I have," he shrugs. "What's your name, by the way?"

You tell him and he chuckles. You tilt your head. "What?"

"You know, I actually bought a drink for a girl with that same name right about...now." He turns to face the bartender, ordering two mojitos and you notice the piña colada girl tripping away, back to the dance floor where she belongs. You laugh and slide into the stool in front of you. He swivels to look at you again.

"How am I doing? Good or bad?"

You giggle and gesture to the group of white collar drunks you came with. "Way better than those guys."

Nice Guy Eddie: A friend had invited you out with her and her boyfriend, insisting on some old bar at the edge of Los Feliz. You hadn't seen her in a good amount of time, which was the only reason you complied. The last thing you wanted was to third wheel and put up with her dumb boyfriend all night, but at the very least you could spend some time with her before she disappeared on you again.

There were times throughout the night where you got the opportunity to have some actual conversation, but they were nothing compared to how much time you were forced to spend watching them giggle and whisper to each other as if you didn't exist. At some point in the night your friend stood up from the booth you sat at, claiming she needed to go to the bathroom. While you were completely ready to walk her there, her boyfriend slid out from the table and followed, leaving you to fend for yourself.