Touch_72
Incorrigible Flirt
- Joined
- Aug 26, 2013
- Posts
- 1,633
With the night off, I'm sitting in the local bar... a relatively quiet, chill bar...
Pull up a stool and join me virtually. All are welcome, though I'm wondering if this should be a thread thing or PM... either or? Or post in the thread and if you want to whisper, whisper by PM?
Whatcha drinking? What do you want to talk about?
The music of the bar is about as eclectic as its decor, tonight seemingly fixated on oldies. "Happy Together" by The Beatles plays as ball players dance through their game on flat screens hung on corrogated metal walls. The glint of the metal contrasts the rich, warm wood of the bar and trim of the room. It seems an odd place, but comfortable and relaxed.
Small groups of two or three people sit drinking and talking. It's not a crowded night and I prefer that for the night. Alternating between glancing at the TV's and the bar patrons, I sit at the end of the bar on my own. The black of my long sleeve shirt sets off the dark of my goatee and rests tucked into tight, belted jeans as my legs hook comfortably around the legs of the stool. A glass of Shock Top (white/wheat) rests half full in front of me, my trademark lemon floating inside.
Pull up a stool and join me virtually. All are welcome, though I'm wondering if this should be a thread thing or PM... either or? Or post in the thread and if you want to whisper, whisper by PM?
Whatcha drinking? What do you want to talk about?
The music of the bar is about as eclectic as its decor, tonight seemingly fixated on oldies. "Happy Together" by The Beatles plays as ball players dance through their game on flat screens hung on corrogated metal walls. The glint of the metal contrasts the rich, warm wood of the bar and trim of the room. It seems an odd place, but comfortable and relaxed.
Small groups of two or three people sit drinking and talking. It's not a crowded night and I prefer that for the night. Alternating between glancing at the TV's and the bar patrons, I sit at the end of the bar on my own. The black of my long sleeve shirt sets off the dark of my goatee and rests tucked into tight, belted jeans as my legs hook comfortably around the legs of the stool. A glass of Shock Top (white/wheat) rests half full in front of me, my trademark lemon floating inside.
Katie 
