pursuedthestars | A Bar on the Mainland

Sometimes, Jim went out to bars to forget. Sometimes, he went out to bars to escape. Sometimes, he just went to bars to have fun. Tonight was the latter. There was nothing wrong save for the fact that Jim hadn't gone out and had a little fun in awhile.

The bar was fairly nondescript. Not seedy but not posh. The bartender was female which meant it was pretty easy to flirt his way into not being carded when he started to order drinks. It was easy and it helped that she was pretty and funny. He wasn't going to go any further but flirting was allowed. That wasn't against any rules that he remembered.

So, he started drinking and he kept flirting. He was on his fourth (maybe fifth) drink and well into a story about just how agile some female aliens were (he figured the bartender was humoring him) when someone's massively meaty hand landed on his shoulder.

"Yer in my seat." When Jim turned around, he had to look up into the face of a man with a mustache that was damp with beer, a bulbous nose and ruddy skin. "Move."

"That's okay," Jim said, patting the man's hand comfortingly. "There's other seats for you to choose from, man. Take a pick. I'll buy you a drink."

The man with the hand didn't move. His grip tightened. "Move."

"Now, that's really not very nice," Jim said, shaking his head. "We should talk about this. Maybe ask the seat if it wants you to sit on it? I mean, you're a rather large man. I think you'd suffocate it."

The man's face screwed up into what Jim thought was anger and Jim knew what was coming next. They were not going to have a tea party. Jim decided to be proactive and swung a fist into the man's gut. The man stumbled but since he had a hold of Jim, Jim went stumbling with him.

That just made it oh so easy for the other guy to bash his other huge fist into Jim's face. Blood flowed from his nose and onto his lips. He spit it towards the other guy and brought a knee up to his groin. That, at least, meant Jim was free of the other guy's hand. And so he decided to tackle the other -- okay, that didn't work since the guy was large, Jim just bounced off of him and hit the floor hard.

Not five seconds later, he was hauled up and socked in the gut. Twice. He was going to puke, he was sure. All that wasted booze! Jim didn't even realize he was being dragged somewhere else because he was too busy trying to not throw up all over the place.

Jim was so sad he didn't even know this guy's name. Considering the absolute intimacy of this beating, he thought he should know. But then, Mr. Man was bringing a fist down on the back of his neck and knocking the wind completely out of him. He saw his blood on the floor. That wasn't good.

When Mr. Man, sent him crashing through the bar's front door and onto the street outside, Jim landed on his side and winced. He stayed there for a few minutes, people passing him by and then he rolled onto his back.

And started laughing. "Guy really likes his seat," he croaked before coughing painfully.

[NFB but open if someone happens to be at this random bar or wants to call him. I finally got around to doing this since I'd been saying it and saying it for so long. The icons needed to be used.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Congratulations on doing such a good deed for the day," Jim quipped, rolling his eyes. "How can I ever repay you?"

"Just tell me the next time you want to get into a bar fight," April said after a moment's pause. "I've always wanted to heckle at one of those. Sucks that no one ever fights in Caritas."

Oops, had she just given away her actual job?

And he'd remember that one.

"I didn't think fights were possible in Caritas," Jim noted. "Some special magical protection thing or something."

"That's what they say," April agreed. "But I wanna see it for myself. Anyway, what kind of idiot makes a bar where there's no free violent entertainment?"

"A pacifist?" Jim suggested, shrugging and taking a breath. He wheezed a bit and licked his lips. "A loser?"

"One of the two," April groused in agreement. "It's totally lame. Half the point of drinking at a bar is having the opportunity to watch belligerent dicks beat each other up."

Or to be one of the belligerent dicks, in Jim's case.

"You're a little strange," Jim told her, shaking his head. "And violent. You'd probably love that guy in there. Perfect match."

"Yeah," April said. To the first part. "Maybe I should go in there and make friends with him, man. Sounds like he'd be way less likely to puke on me."

"Be my guest," Jim told her, gesturing back towards the bar. "Go get married and have some ugly babies with him."

"Hey." Just because you were at the top of Empire's Sexiest People list, Jim... "My babies would not be ugly."

"Hideous," Jim told her, shaking his head. "Awful."

"Nope," April argued simply. "I had one of those random one-weekend-only kids once. She was cute as crap. And I hate kids."

Yeah, she definitely wasn't a day care instructor.

"Anyway, I wouldn't hook up with that guy," she assured him. "His shirt is like translucent with sweat. It's gross."

"Too bad. That would have been hilarious to make fun of you for," Jim said, not really sounding all that sad about it. "The sweat would have just made everything slippery and fun."

"Dude, don't you know the rule? The guy who sweats the most in a fight has zero appeal to spectators." April was just making that up. But if you asked her, it was science. "It's like a thing girls know." Again, no. Not at all.

"You make a lot of shit up," Jim told her because he wasn't a moron. "Seems like you have a problem with lying. Shame on you."

"Why would I have a problem with lying?" April asked. "Lying is fun."

She saw no problem with that.

"It was sarcasm," Jim explained with a shake of his head. "Get a clue."

He was getting a little cranky because he didn't feel too hot right now.

Oh, April got the sarcasm. She just liked being difficult.

"Okay, snippy," she said with a roll of her eyes. She wasn't offended or anything, but it did seem like it was maybe time to get moving, so she pushed off from the sidewalk and got to her feet. "Well, I'm gonna go get wasted somewhere not this place," she announced, looking down at Jim. "You definitely capable of standing up when you feel like it?"

"I'll be fine," Jim said, shooing her away with his hand. "Go 'way. And thanks for the help."

"Yup," April said by way of a 'you're welcome.' "Just come to Caritas and bleed on Tino sometime and we'll call it even."

Or don't. Probably don't do that, Jim.

With that, she set off. She was so ready for about five beers right now. Ugh, being responsible.

A Bar on the Mainland | Sunday Evening

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