“What are you doing here, Ness?” she screamed to herself. It took her several minutes to calm down, but she knew she was in no condition for such a long drive back home. She looked around and spotted Eddie’s Bar across the road and decided she really needed something to calm her nerves. She ran across, entered the bar, and sat down at one of the empty stools close to the end.
“What’s your poison?” a deep, gruff voice brought Ness out of her daze. She looked up and saw the bartender standing in front of her. He was easily in his late 50s, but his well-developed shoulders, arms, and chest would be the envy of any younger man. She stared at his face for a few seconds and noticed that he had a fading scar on his cheek that ran up into his hairline, deep into his graying but thick hair. His icy blue eyes held her stare as he waited for her to answer.
“I’ll just have a club soda and some ice,” Ness eventually answered. “Sure? You look like you may need something stronger,” he answered flatly.
“I’m driving, and I don't live around here, so taking a cab is out of the question.” The bartender simply nodded his head and started filling up a glass with a lot of ice and a large slice of lemon before tapping in soda water to the brim. He placed the glass on a coaster in front of Ness. “If you need anything else, just shout. It’s not a busy night,” he said as he walked away to leave her in privacy.
Ness took a few moments to look around the bar now that her nerves were starting to calm down. It was a relatively nice place, some of the furniture was outdated but the place was clean, and the lighting was soft, which created a pleasant ambiance. There were a few booths around the place which were mostly occupied, but other than that, the bar was mostly empty—though that probably wasn’t strange for an early evening on a Wednesday.
Ness took a few sips of the soda and had to resist a sneeze as the bubbles tickled her nose.
The good thing was that the cold bubbles were helping soothe her anxious tension, and she was starting to feel hungry, so she smiled at the bartender who started back toward her.
“Do you guys serve any food?” she asked him as he stopped in front of her. “Sure do,” he handed her a menu from behind the bar. “Can I have a cheeseburger, fries, and some onion rings, please?” “You got it, why don’t you go have a seat in one of the empty booths? It will be much more comfortable eating there than eating up here on a barstool,” he winked at her in a friendly yet platonic way.
Ness smiled, took her drink to one of the booths, and sat down. The cushions were comfortably soft as she slid onto it and moved deeper into the booth. This bar seemed much more comfortable now that she was sitting in a booth, and she was happy that she moved. Prying eyes were the last thing that she wanted, and a booth offered her slightly more privacy. She sipped at her soda as she watched several more people enter the doors.
As the evening became later, more patrons entered the bar and started filling up the place. 20 minutes later, the bartender approached Ness with her order, and what he carried in his hand didn’t disappoint her. The burger looked expertly made, the fries were thinly cut, and the onion rings looked perfectly deep-fried. If the food tasted as good as it looked, then Ness was certain this bar would be packed in a matter of minutes.
“Here’s your order. I hope you enjoy it. If you require another drink, just grab my attention from the bar,” The bartender said with a warm smile and left. Ness dove into her meal and took a large bite from her cheeseburger. It was far more delicious than she thought a burger at a bar could be. She figured that she may have just been hungry, but even after several bites, she still thought that this was one of the best burgers that she’d ever eaten.
While she was still eating, three burly and obviously drunk twentysomething year olds entered the bar and noticed her sitting on her own. This made Ness feel uncomfortable because their drunken stupor made them very obvious, and she could see that they were setting their sights on her. They approached her booth at once and sat down around her.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all by yourself?” one of the men slurred. Ness ignored his question and kept her gaze on her plate of food. “Oh, come on … don’t be like that,” the same man said and grabbed Ness on her thigh. “Get your fucking hand off me,” Ness said in a quiet rage.
This seemed to fuel the young man because he seemed excited by her sudden feistiness and tried moving closer to her, but he was suddenly impeded by a large, strong hand on his shoulder. “Do we have a problem here?” the bartender asked without releasing his grip on the young man’s shoulder. “Mind your own business, old man,” one of the other men piped up. The man started to wince as the bartender’s knuckles whitened. “It’s
