A Captain and Her Ship

Chapter 17: Why I Hate the Bar

Chapter 17: Why I Hate the Bar

I was getting ready for my. Date, I guess with Whiskey Lover. And I wanted to look as unattractive as possible. The last thing I want him to think is that I'm getting all dressed up for him. Then, he'll just keep touching me, and making the dirtiest of jokes to get in my pants. I won't allow that, me and Whiskey Lover having intercourse sounds gross and retarded. I rather gash my eyes out with a spoon and serve it to him.

I wore black and white Nike short’s, that has a green tick on the right side. I slipped on some white socks and a green hoodie. I had a black, tank top underneath. And worn some old torn up basketball shoes. My hair was tied down, and over one of my shoulders. Even my printed imagine dragon hat was sideways.

I looked terrible, there's no way he would want to me to go with him. My purse was hanging on my doorknob, so I took it on the way out. Placing my phone, pepper spray and a pocket knife in case he try's something funny.

When I made it to the kitchen, my mom was closing the cabinet doors. When she gave me a ‘what-the-fuck-are-you-wearing’ look? But I ignored her and strode passed her, I really don't think she should know. Because it would most likely go like this, where are you going? To a bar with my high friend, where I won't be drinking anything. But I think my high friend, wants to get into my pants. She'll have a heart attack and then haunt me for killing her.

"Where are you going?” She asked, holding a bag of chips.

"Oliver's house, he's picking me up." I lied.

"Oh, well have fun. And don't forget to call me okay?”

"Sure.”

Suddenly the bell rang, and I darted for the door. Before my mom tried to offer to answer it, politeness is what's going to kill her.

"Hey Sweetheart." he grinned, leaning in.

I pressed my palm on his lips before he got any closer. And I could feel his lips curving into a smile on my palm, it was weird. I pulled away and he laughed.

"Ready?”

"Yeah." I said half-heartedly.

"Is that Olivier’s dad?” My mom hollered, as I heard her coming closer. I shoved Ash, out of the doorframe and closed it behind us.

"Let's go!” I exclaimed, running towards the car as he followed. 


~00000000000~

"Home, home on the range and dear and the antelope plague." A drunken fat guy, with a beard sang. The bar was small, and crowd. The floor was gray, and had greenish brown smug on them and scraps with dents. Okay? And the chairs that were next to the bar tender were made of a light tan wood, but looked crappy. And broken, if someone was to sit on it, they’re not coming up.

Most of the people here were high schoolers, and intoxicated to the max. Roaming the bar with goofy grins and an alcohol shot in one hand.

"Wanna grab a seat?” Whiskey Lover asked.

"Sure.”

We sat at the first booth in the back, he sat next to the window and I sat next the aisle on the other side. 
There was something furry and black on the table. It smelled awful, and Ash took a piece of dry cardboard from the napkin holder. The fuck, where's the napkins? He swiped the creature off the table, and I eyed it, it was rat. On the table!