baserinstincts

A Redhead Walks Into A Bar…

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I was in the middle of taking some time off from work. I went there however, to pick up a friend. He owed me some money and I’d come to collect.

After settling up with him, I ran into another friend. She was having man trouble and we proceeded to hit the bar. The place was close by, across the street. It was where we’d go after work sometimes to self-medicate with tequila and such.

And that night was really no different.

We were just about the only ones there. We drank and talked and drank and talked. In the midst of politely nodding to the babble of some psycho chick and my friend making several trips outside after angry phonecalls from her boyfriend, I struck up a conversation with the bartender.

We weren’t really flirting, mind. Just having a friendly conversation. So I was genuinely surprised when, during one of my friend’s trips outside to argue with her man, the bartender asked me out.

At first look, he really wasn’t anything special. Short, shaved head, just a dude really. But he had kind eyes and his accent was pretty sexy (he was, you see, a genuine Irish bartender) so I said yes. We exchanged numbers and within a week, went on our first date.

The plus side to dating a bartender is that he knows all the good spots in the City.

The down side is…all he talks about is bars.

He was a nice enough guy, knew how to show a lady a good time, and the sex was pretty darn good. However, after a short while my tendency toward caprice kicked in and the dates became less frequent until they stopped altogether.

Irish Bartender and I worked in very close proximity to one another, with me frequenting his place of business and him mine. We’d see each other, say hello, smile genuine smiles (there were no hard feelings after all, these things happen) and go on about our business.

One of my best guy friends (one of my only guy friends, if not my only guy friend with whom I have, always have and will always have a truly platonic relationship…and that’s not a complaint by the way) and I decided to go to the local watering hole after a late shift one night. I hadn’t been there in a long time but he offered to buy me a beer. Or did I offer to buy him a beer? I forget.

In any case,  as we walked into the bar I kinda knew Irish Bartender was going to be there because it was the shift he had always worked. I’d been to the bar since we stopped seeing each other, but never with a guy. I didn’t feel weird about it. For one thing, it’s not like anything was going on between me and my BGFF besides beer. Secondly, Irish Bartender and I were still friendly. And furthermore, it had been almost two years since last we fucked.

Irish Bartender smiled and made friendly small talk with me. I introduced him to my BGFF (calling him simply by his name because if I took great pains to explain that G and I were really just friends, then he might get the impression that I was making some attempt to win him back…then again by not explaining that G and I were really just friends, he could easily get the impression that we were dating, therefore concluding that I was making some attempt to win him back by causing him to go into a fit of jealousy) and we ordered our beers.

We didn’t stay long, my friend and I. Irish Bartender, gracious host that he is, insisted that our beers be on the house.

“Wow,” I said to my BGFF once we got outside. “I know fucking the bartender usually entitles you to free drinks but I thought that expired once you stopped fucking him. And certainly that doesn’t extend to any guys you might bring into his bar”

G, a man of few words, just chuckled and smiled, satisfied that he’d gotten a free beer.

I’d forgotten the whole scene almost as it happened.

Until a few days ago, when I saw Irish Bartender strolling around my place of employ.

With a tall, gorgeous, black chick.

He spotted me and said hi. I muttered a quick hello and kept walking.

Now I wasn’t upset per se.

I was more amused. At him and myself.

I was amused at him because of the obvious tit for tat gesture.

I was amused at myself for actually giving it more than half a second’s thought.

Really I have no feelings for this guy.

But what is it about seeing someone you were with, even casually, with someone else that makes people get all weird?