He walked into the bar, sat down and ordered a drink. Then, he noticed her sitting next to him.
"It's a nice band," he said.
"Better than the house music," she stuttered.
"There's something nice about live music," he said.
She smiled, took a sip of her drink, then agreed. The music played on and he asked her what she is having to drink.
"What are you drinking?" he inquired.
"Long island iced tea, double," she replied confidently.
He asked the bartender for another long island double and closed out his tab. She chugged it down in one gulp and exclaimed, "Let's get out of this joint, I'm driving!"
"Shouldn't we call 1-800-Safe-Ride?" he asked.
"Nahh, I got this!" she mumbled while fumbling for her car keys.
The autumn air was ruined by the foul smell of cows in the distance and vodka. Cigarrette smoke lingered out the bar door as they left. The car was parked in the farthest spot from the entrance. As she approached the car, she forcefully jammed the key into the door. Only then did she realize this wasn't her car. Upon realizing this, she shouted "To hell with this!" and kicked the door, leaving a rather large dent for the car's true owner.
He then replied, "to hell with you," and slowly stumbled down the street back to his apartment, for he only lived a few blocks away. He never knew what became of her that night, but he knew that he never wanted to meet a girl like that ever again.
Written by Amanda Dobbs
Brian Gilmore, And Tannah Ijoma
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