Dirty Boots and Jane

No one could see my boots behind the bar, but they were bugging the shit out of me. The edges were still slightly caked with dirt from my trek in Nevada and the fancy jeans I had on kept dragging on the liquor stained floor then mixing with the dirt, I couldn’t help but think that they were being ruined.

It was still early, but the Pink Pussy was full of customers who were more than willing to buy the overpriced drinks. I arched my back without thinking and suddenly was face to face with a throng of men who only moments before were interested in the band. I wiped their glasses, poured their shots and squeezed limes in their beers. So far I only had two offers to lick the juice off my fingers.

The room was noisy mix of people who thought blending the forties and fifties clothing, tattoos and piercings was a good idea. I just didn’t get it—one girl had plugs the size of quarters in her ear, a lip and nose piercing plus full tattoo sleeves on each arm. She was wearing a swing dress and had a Betty Paige haircut. It was butt fucking ugly if you asked me.

I served them, Gin and Tonics, Manhattans, Bloody Mary’s, Martini’s and Gibson’s. I smiled, winked, and gave them advice on their love life. They ate my words with their drinks, and kept ordering more.

The band on stage was doing a poor imitation of Lionel Hampton & his Orchestra, no one danced—they just kind of swayed clutching their drinks—there wasn’t room to dance anyway.

All that bastard Shack did was talk. It would be a stretch to say he pulled more than a couple of drafts and mixed four our five drinks. I didn’t give a shit though, my I had pocketed so many tips that both pockets were bulging.

A female customer pushed through the men standing in front of me. She was pretty, with a short blonde bob and bright green eyes—she was only marred by one piercing in her lip. She set her tits on the bar and smiled—when I didn’t take the bait, she quickly righted herself and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What can I make for you?" She looked around indecisive.

Two men who were obviously here for the novelty approached the bar. They were both wearing chinos and button down striped shirts. One of them signaled me with is finger. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Go ahead" she smiled again.

"Uh, babe, I’ll I have a gin and tonic, and my friend will have a…" he turned to his friend who was busy looking at my tits.

"What’ll you have man?"

His friend finally answered without removing his eyes. "A beer"

I raised my eyebrow, pulled a Pabst—the cheapest crap we had and mixed up the Gin and Tonic.

I pulled a matches out of my back pocket, poured a shot of gin and set it on fire.

Chinos eyes widened. The flame was virtually invisible.

"On the house, and don’t forget to blow."

He quickly blew out the flame, vapor trailed up from the drink. The girl was grinning from ear to ear, and she finally ordered a Cosmopolitan.

By the end of the evening she was my new roommate—her name was Jane and I wasn’t to sure how the whole Lesbian think was going work out but it was worth a shot.