Whiskey & Wine {Rade!blitz}

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

She's dressed so fine it makes me feel like a street rat in ripped denims. But I have sexy kneecaps if I do say so myself, so it all works out in the end, I guess. 

I sure do like her style though. The sway of her hips against the air like I imagine a huge bell would.

Then, she's moving over towards me. She smells good. Smells great, actually. Better than the guys over here. But I ain't here for anybody but those whiskey bottles on the back of the bar.

She sets down next t'me and downs a shot.

"Some party, eh, blondie?" she murmurs. ""I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go, unless you count tipsy, but that's more of a state of mind."

"Well I'm sure the menfolk here appreciate your finery, even if it's a bit outta place. Sure does look nice. Makes me wish I'd spruced up a bit more."

I grab another shot and down it. Four. Four in, three left a'fore...

Startin' t'feel it. Feels good. Warm. Silky. Calming...

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

My eyelids ain't feelin' heavy yet. When I'm shit-faced, opening my eyelids feels like trying to lift a two-ton wood chipper.

Not ready to be shit-faced yet. Maybe talk to this girl I shall-- no will. Shall sounds dumb.

The girl glances back at Tim an' I can't help but wonder why she seems so annoyed. He's a moron anyways, but still. He can normally keep a girl happy at a party for longer than two minutes.

"Yeah that's me alright. At least you look like you fit in. I stick out worse than a pine tree in an oak grove," she says and I can't help but smile. I feel like she's expecting things from me as she watches me but then again... I hardly know her. How can she expect anything?

"Name's Cynthia. Most folk call me Cindy. I haven't seen you 'round before, but I figure Tim roped you into this."

I laugh. "Th'name's Autumn. Pleasure meetin' yah. And kinda. Long time ago, Tim brought me here with some of our buddies. Roaring place a few years back."

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

"Well, Autty, can I call you Autty?" she says and I don't mind. My whole name can be a bit of a mouthful sometimes. Why Ma decided she wanted to hyphenate her name (Cleaver) with Papa's (Newark) I'll never understand. Maybe 'cuz she felt like it was too short.

"I haven't known Tim for long, but this is the second time I've been incorrectly dressed fer something he invited me to."

"Second now?" I ask, raising my eyebrows in unison. "Really? What a douche."

Cindy reached for another glass o'whiskey and I grinned. She knocked back another shot like she was pulling the start-up line on a chainsaw in one quick jerk.

"Do you think they have any rum back there? I could use a change of pace."

Rum. Rum rum rum. I like rum. Might as well.

"Yeah, sure. I'll get 'em in apology for Tim. He really is hopeless!" I laugh.

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

"Y'think any of the menfolk are looking for a date?" she asks and a smile stretches across my face.

"With your face and figure, I'd bet even most of the womenfolk'll be hoping for a date too," I say with a wink. "I'm not sure though. I'm just here for the whiskey."

The bartender notices my glass is empty, but before he can grab a bottle and refill it, I say, "Can we get four shots of rum? Your best stuff."

He raises an eyebrow and his glance darts from me to Cindy and back to me before it appears he mentally shrugs and turns away to grab the rum.

Putting four clean shot glasses on the counter, he pours some out and then turns away to put the bottle back. I grab one of them and put it in her hand. "Here's to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness in the form of heavy liquors."

I put it to my lips and drain it in one gulp. Probably stupid to down the nice stuff that quickly but it was good and she'd earned the money and now was the time of our life.

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

"How was your day?" Cindy asks and I smile. My vision is getting blurry a bit and I know I'm gonna be on the floor if I keep drinking like this. Maybe I should get some food. No sense drinking on an empty stomach.

"Good, good," I reply, toying with my second shot of rum. It's not worth it yet. No point. I really shouldn't--

But of course, I do. Fuck. I'm an idiot. But it feels so wonderful running down my throat and then the explosion of warmth in the pit of my stomach that spreads outward as soon as it hits, like it's a bomb and the warmth is shrapnel.

"My father had some work for me, so I got to use the wood chipper, which is always awesome," I pause. "Gimme a second."

I make eye contact with the bartender and ask, "You got burger balls?"

He shrugs. "I'm new. I guess so."

"Kay. I want an order of burger balls." I slap please on at the end after almost forgetting it and he nods. "All right."

I turn back to Cindy. "You can have some of mine if you want. But anyways, how was your day?"

[googlefont="Live Savers:400"]a u t u m n

"Protein helps with the liquor," I tell her. "Burger balls are my favorite. It's like... meatloaf-- ground beef mixed with ketchup, wrapped in that cheese that oozes everywhere when it melts, wrapped again in that bread that sticks to the roof of your mouth and then lightly fried. It's to die for. I could eat them for breakfast lunch and dinner if I wanted to weigh a couple hundred kilograms."

It takes a few minutes of waiting, but the bartender tosses a basket onto your part of the counter and it nearly slides off.

"Watch it, buddy!" I bark out. "These are manna from heaven. Don't go ruining them!"

Steam coils like a spring over them, as though their very deliciousness were preparing to assault my taste buds.

I hold out the basket to her. "Want one?" Then I stuff one in my face and almost melt with the outer coating of bread.