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Post by ROXANNE MARIE TAYLOR on Apr 25, 2010 21:58:18 GMT -5
 
people were looking at her funny. maybe it was the fact that she had walked in the bar with a painted on white t shirt, a pair of cut off short shorts, and a pair of flip flops at her feet, the scent of the ocean still lingering on her skin. or maybe it was because she was so god damn hot. either way, she could feel the heat of their gaze on her lithe bodice as she made her way to the bar. you may be curious as to why she was wearing the outfit that she was? well, it so happened to be five o clock on a wednesday night, a night that usually bars werent full, and she had just gotten off her job as the head lifeguard in miami beach. so yes, maybe her hair was tangled from the saltiness of the sea, maybe her skin was a golden bronze from laying out in the sun for hours, maybe the bronze of her flesh accentuated her ocean green eyes just beautifully. after she had gotten off of work, she decided that she needed a drink. sure, there were plenty of small drink stands near the beach, it was miami after all. but honestly, she found herself getting into her convertible black beemer, and driving to the place with her top down. she couldnt say exactly what dragged her to this place, maybe it was the overall atmosphere, and spending her entire day being annoyed and oggled by thirteen year old boys who probably hadnt even reached puberity yet, she thought it a change of sceneary was needed. and so, she found herself sitting on one of the bar stools, those long, heavenly athletic legs crossed, left over right, setting her small bag on the stood next to her, as she ordered a pina colada. ah yes, so typical, a girl ordering a girly drink. but she loved it, it was sweet, she was addicted to sweets in general.
she gave the female bartender the cash for the drink, her dainty fingers wrapped around the glass, pressing the top rim to her perfectly formed pout. she closed her eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the cold liquid refreshing her parched throat. hours in the sun, she felt dehydrated, and although water was the number one thing to help her out, she needed something with a little kick in it, and water couldnt exactly help her out there. her plan was to finish her drink in peace, without getting interrupted as she thought about random things. her memorizing eyes watching the droplets of condensation rolling off the glass. she brought the drink back to her wet lips, her pink tongue peeking out from the chambers of her mouth, and licking her upper lip as she set the glass on the bar counter once more. her stomach growled, roxanne marie suddenly remembering that she hadnt eaten since this morning. well, after she was done, she'll have to stop by something and get something to eat. she didnt feel like cooking tonight, her father had failed to provide her with a cook for some odd reason, something that she surely would complain about the next time that they spoke via telephone. she turned on her stool, facing the people that were lounging around. people watching. it was something that everyone did, everyone. no matter who you were, what you looked like, where you came from, sitting down and watching people pass by you and judging them was highly amusing. what she had noticed in miami, unlike australia, this was a giant melting pot. you could find the greatest variety of races probably in another other place. it was nice, the way cultures seemed to mix to accomdentate everyone.
she reached over for her drink, and finished the last of it, about to get up and head back home, on her way picking up food of course, but instead decided against it. she was comfortable and didnt feel like driving. so instead, she ordered another drink. and no, not another pina colada, but a shot of whiskey that she quickly downed. who said aussie girls couldnt drink? the strong taste lingered in her mouth as she sat there, occupied with her own thoughts before she heard someone clear their throat on the stool next to her. she absent mindly looked to her right, seeing a middle aged guy, with already thinning hair, watching her with that glaze over his eyes that dogs get when a big, fat, juicy steak is dangling in front of them. gross, he wasnt even attractive. she ignored him as she usually did to these pervs. but in the process of getting up, she felt the meaty hand grasp her arm and pull her back. what the fuck? who the fuck did this bloke think he was? touching her like that? she sharply turned around, her baby blue pools narrowed in irritation, she really didnt want to deal with this right now, not one bit. as she guessed, he wanted to buy her a drink, at first roxanne gratefully declined the offer, but as the guy persisted to buy her a drink, the more annoying he would get. are guys really that fucking brainless that they dont get the clue when a girl is not interested in them? apparently not, this bloke was living proof of that.
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Post by duncan on Apr 27, 2010 0:56:57 GMT -5
Fuck, Duncan was tired. He scooted further onto the stool, leaning his elbows heavily on the counter as he nursed a glass of scotch towards his chest. Maybe it was just his paranoia, but it felt like Victoria Secret was working him harder than ever today. In reality, it was simply they'd gotten a large shipment in that morning and Duncan had to spend the rest of his day lugging boxes in and out of the place as women gave him these nasty, 'you're a pervert for being here' looks. As if he actually wanted the job to sneak peaks at women while they tried on shit that was a centimeter thick. The only reason why he worked there was for extra money - it was his second job, and definitely not his first choice. In fact, Duncan was lucky even to have the opportunity. High school drop-out, no college degree - only a friend willing to let him be the fuckin' box boy for Victoria's Secret.
He lifted the glass to his lips, downing the drink in one take before waving the female over for another. "Just another scotch, please," he told her. Duncan scratched his head, wondering if this headache he had would ever go away. In just another hour, he had to get over to Platinum for another eight hour shift of kicking out assholes if they touched the strippers or got too rowdy. And, maybe if he was lucky, he could get a few hours of sleep before starting it all over again. "Fuck my life," he breathed, feeling very emo talking about complaining about it. At least it was just to himself, anyway. Duncan gave a lazy thanks to the girl for sliding another glass of scotch under his nose. Which, just went right down his throat in the next few seconds. It burned so nice, but it wasn't making him forget his life or anything. He wasn't there to get drunk - that was all he'd need, to show up shit drunk to work and get fired. That wasn't something he could afford.
Duncan was in the midst of retrieving his wallet from his back pocket when the man next to him started grumbling about the sexy tail available at the bar. He didn't bother to respond, simply pulling out a twenty and sliding it across the counter. "Keep the change," he told the female bartender, not caring that he just blew a lot of cash he literally didn't have the option of spending. He was late on rent so any money helped, but fuck it. The guy could wait a few more days or could just kick him out. That was life, right? Duncan had to take the ups with the downs and right now, he wanted to have a couple of fucking drinks before he had to exhaust himself for the rest of the night. The gentleman besides him started to get a little antsier - it seemed some hot tamale had taken the stool right next to him. Mr. Suave was now trying to get her to accept a drink. Which, when it came right down to it, meant she'd have to give him sex or at the very least, a blowjob later. The guy was in his thirties, maybe forties - Duncan wasn't taking him too seriously.
Duncan slid off his stool and stretched, eyes wandering back to the man. Standing now, he could see the young girl he was bothering and rolled his eyes. She looked like the beach had spit her out or something. Who the hell came to a bar in flip-flops and shorts not fit for anything but pajamas? It was stupid. Even he was wearing a black shirt, comfortable jeans, and boots. But, even though she looked like a teen covergirl, it was obvious the older man was bothering her. Duncan released a sigh - where was the bouncer here? It came apparent that he was going to have to help her out. That was his fault for choosing a job where he helped people - it just got ingrained in him. Duncan stepped forward, somewhat between the man and the girl, though his attention was focused on the guy. "My girlfriend doesn't want the damn drink, so I suggest you move over a couple of stools so she knows I've been here the whole time, and that your fat, gelatinous ass kept me hidden."
Clearly, not the best cover-up but it got the desired affect. Besides, Duncan was far too fucking tired to care what this girl thought or this guy. She wasn't able to shake the prick off herself and he could give a damn if she wanted his help or not. She got it anyway. The last thing the tired woman behind the bar needed was commotion between a girl from the beach and a drunken booze-hound. Duncan could relate with the unfortunate woman - he had to deal with shit like this every night, and in his eyes, both parties were responsible. The guy was an idiot for drinking himself into a stupor - the girl was at fault for inviting sexual interest with her skimpy dress. What did she expect? Either way, Duncan ended up crossing his arms with a murderous glare until the bum muttered a foul curse and stumbled off to a booth instead. Once in the clear, he glanced towards the beach girl with some impatience. "Maybe cover yourself up or something if you don't want assholes like that bothering you," he snapped.
(( don't mind him. he's just a grumpy ass. hope it's okay for me to join ))
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Post by ROXANNE MARIE TAYLOR on Apr 28, 2010 12:22:43 GMT -5
roxanne marie was on the verge of just getting up and getting the fuck out of here. she didnt come here to get picked up by men with balding scalps. her intentions had been purely pure. she just wanted a drink, a drink that this bar seemed to be the best at making. she had no business here, at least for today. she was tired, the sun had drained her out of most of her energy. the only image going through her head was the luxurious king sized bed back at her place. where she'll draw the curtains and call it a night. or well, take a power night, before she went out with some of her friends that had flown down from australia. she briefly wondered where they would go. probably out to dinner, a girls not sounded fun. just by the five minute encounter with this idiot of a bloke had turned her off from the male species, and rising from her bar stool, drink in hand, she was about to walk away from the heavy set man before her peripheral vision caught the sight of another man walking towards her. great, another perv wanting to take her home with her. her full pout was sent into a grim line, before she noticed that the man walking directly towards her was coming for her rescue, not for a romp in the sack. thank heavens, a man with a moral sense of value. with sheer curiousity and interested, she watched the younger looking make mention to the bloke that his 'girlfriend' didnt want a drink. that he should move over a couple of stools away so that she would know that he had been here the whole time. at his last comment directed towards the older man, she couldnt help but stifle a small giggle. her eyes following the round figure of the older man as he left with nothing but a grumble directed towards their direction. she faced the new man, out of habit, letting her ocean blue pools wonder over his figure, trying to asses what her hero's appearance was. she wasnt shallow, okay well, so what if she cared about appearances. it didnt make her shallow. she was delight at the fact that the man was handsome, in a rugged sort of a way, and older too. he had to be in his late twenties, but it didnt bother her. he seemed like a nice guy. him telling that bloke off proved it to her.
hm, maybe she had spoken too soon. the next words out of his mouth were impatient, the way he was looking at her was the way an adult would look at a kid while they were being scolded. miss taylor didnt like this, not one bit. she wasnt a fucking child, and sure, he might be her elder, but she didnt have to be treated like a high school student. she was twenty two years old. what the fuck was up this guys ass? she kinda regretted her earlier thoughts about him, but being grumpy or not, he was still easy on the eyes, maybe life had just run its course on him, and had left him the way he was. grouchy bloke wasnt he. her eyes narrowed as he mentioned that pretty much in summation, it was practically all her fault that the earlier man had come on and tried to hit on her. oh please. she could be wearing a fucking potato sack that covered her entire body, and yet she'll have old hounds practically wagging their tails for her to pay attention to her. what she had wearing, it simply had nothing to do with the fact that she got hit on. she wasnt dressed like a slut, like most girls that made their way into the bar. she was wearing a pair of shorts and a t shirt. it wasnt as if her breasts were about to spill off. practically the only skin she was showing was the skin on her arms and her legs. her ass cheeks were safely secured by the denim fabric of her shorts. 'thanks for getting that guy off my ass, but just to make things clear, im not dressed inappropriately. i understand seeing a girl in a t shirt, shorts, and a pair of flip flops might seem odd to you, as well as other people, but i just got off work, and needed a drink,' roxanne replied back, her australian accent rolling off her tongue as she responded back to the grumpy man's lyrics. her eyes searched his rugged features, before nestling on the mans own pair. ' i would suggest you get some drinks, you need to lighten up a little mate,' roxanne wasnt trying to be a bitch. she was just blunt, and she wasnt upset at his statements either. sure, it kinda irked her that this man, this man she didnt even know, thought she was some slut for coming to the bar in fucking shorts. ha, well, if only he really knew her. at age twenty two, she hadnt been past making out with a guy. i know, it was sad, depressing too for such a pretty and nice girl. but hey, she just hadnt met the right man, and she hoped it would be soon. she didnt want to die a virgin, now that was something to be depressed about.
she thought about leaving, and getting away with this grumpy man. but somehow, she decided against it. there was something about him that appealed to her. obviously, he was good looking, and despite his grumpy attitude, she kinda enjoyed being next to him, in a not weirdo way. well, might as well make the most of it. she hadnt met a lot of people since she moved down here about two weeks ago from sydney. right now was her chance to add one more person to her people that she knew list. i mean, if he wanted to associate with a 'slut' like her. she had been too busy with school and with unpacking to really get out and get to know people and make new friends. that and she felt a bit homesick, leaving her entire family and her friends half a world away. she missed them, and she missed them terrible. but she had to make the most out of the situation. she had moved here in order to get away from her demanding father, him always being up her ass about stupid shit. and so, she had decided to transfer from her old college to the university of miami, where she was going to major in chemistry, and become a cardiac surgeon later in life. hopefully, everything turned out the way that she wanted. she brushed a dainty hair through the curles of her wavy beach hair, and sat back down on the stool, finishing the rest of her drink, her eyes glancing at the mans face. 'might as well introduce myself then. im roxanne, i just moved here from sydney about two weeks ago,' roxanne mentioned, knowing that he probably didnt care where the hell she was from, but whatever, she was trying to be nice and to make conversation with the bloke. 'whats your name?' she asked, her attention solely on the upper twenties attractive looking male. she hadnt seen him around, so maybe he we new in town as well. and yet, she was the last person to know everyone around the city.
NOTES ' blah
TAGGED ' grumpy duncan ! |
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Post by duncan on Apr 30, 2010 1:52:09 GMT -5
Her excuse was rather trivial in his eyes. She just got off work? Immediately, he had to assume she either worked for a beach-side concession stand or lifeguard. A job like either of those was kind of dumb, he thought. They were there for high school kids to pick up whenever they got bored, but no for a serious adult. Duncan's eyes narrowed upon her face, trying to determine in silence exactly how old she was. He'd wager she was nineteen if she hadn't gotten into the bar. Then again, kids these days could fake IDs right and left. That had to be it. There wasn't a career in beach-side jobs. He was tempted to lean across the counter and tell the beleaguered bartender to check this girl for identification, since he hadn't paid any attention before. Thankfully for them all, he remained stock-still as the girl ran her mouth. Women were good for that, weren't they?
Her accent was thick and untraceable. Duncan had never traveled outside of the United States - he had no idea what other people in different countries sounded like. If he had to place one, he'd guess Britain since they had a similar twang in the movies. Now he wanted to see her passport. Who was she trying to kid? "Work, huh?" He questioned in a brief grunt. "And you don't carry a change of clothing? Pants? Actual sneakers or heels - you girls love heels." Duncan gave her an irritated glance, as if she was the cause for his entire ruined day. "You come in here dressed like some beach hooligan, nobody is going to take you seriously. Know the consequences. There's no excuse to complain about it." Lord, he felt like his father. That wasn't a bad thing, necessarily. But he was only twenty-eight and definitely not her father. This entire situation had him all stressed out again.
Duncan motioned a hand impatiently towards the two empty shot glasses that had carried his scotch. "I've already had a couple of drinks, mate. Unlike you, I work all hours of the night. I don't get to frolic around on the beach and wave at people." The man released a slow breath, looking towards the door as he continued in a lowered tone, "I've got to be at Platinum in forty." This was followed by a nasty curse; Duncan scratched the back of his head vigorously, as if that could wipe away all traces of his headache. Tongiht was going to suck. He was going to work in a bad mood - Jillian would make it worse, by being such a bitch to him. Those assholes that wanted to grope the STD-infested asses of the strippers were definitely going to rub him the wrong way tonight. If Duncan didn't need the money, he'd probably let those girls get gang-banged in the back alley just to teach them a lesson. Whores take off their clothes for money.
Suddenly, the girl was speaking again - he'd forgotten she was there in his musings. She was introducing herself. Sydney? Australia. Whatever, so he got her accent wrong. They all sounded the bloody same. Though why she wanted to add where she'd come from was lost on him. Duncan didn't care. "This is all nice and very interesting Roxanne," he muttered sarcastically - he hated her name. It reminded him of that movie Moulin Rouge where one of the can-can girls' name was Roxanne, and she was such a backstabbing bitch. Immediately, he didn't trust her for that reason alone. "But anyway, I don't come to bars to meet women or anything so... whatever you're thinking, just forget it. I helped you out because if you were my sister, I'd want some other guy to do it too."
It was then that Duncan realized he was going a little overboard. He was taking his anger and frustration out on a little beach bum and she didn't deserve it, even if she had provoked the encounter unintentionally. How fucking hard was it to wear shorts? With a shuddering side, he leaned on the bar, dropping his head so that their conversation was more intimate. "Look, I'm just having a bad day and you're the unfortunate one to run into me - sorta. So I'm not going to be the best conversationalist right now. Just try a pair of pants next time so we don't go through this again, huh?"
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Post by ROXANNE MARIE TAYLOR on May 5, 2010 21:39:14 GMT -5
If she had been any other chick, she would have surely slapped him on the cheek and left. not that he had said anything of insult to her, but he was being a big baby, complaining about this and that, and giving her shit for absolutely nothing. sure, it was plain as day that this dude was giving a bad ass day, but why in the world was she the target of his ramblings, she didn't know. guess she had been at the right place, at the right time. oh joy, the last thing she needed was some middle aged man telling her what to wear and what not to wear. oh please. she had gotten enough of that shit from her father back in sydney, and thank god she escaped his blubbering nonsense. but this guy entertained her, even if he was bitching at her about her dressing attire, her accent, and her name. everything has their rough days, and she didn't take it personally that she was the lucky candidate for this guy's meltdown. 'i normally go straight home after home, so no, i don't make it a a habit carrying a change of clothes nor heels for that matter,' roxanne marie responded to his first set of his accusing statements. why would she carry extra clothing in her car? it wasn't as if she would go straight to a fancy party from the beach, with her hair everywhere and the smell of suntan lotion still basking on her skin. and heels? as if. don't get her wrong, she liked heels, it worked wonders on a woman's legs, not that she needed any help honestly when it came down to physical attributes, but they were uncomfortable. she was a flip flop of sneakers kind of girl. she loved the outdoors, hiking rock climbing, she lived for the rush of excitement that such sports were well known for. the thought of trying to climb a rock with her three inch black heels was a funny image, a small, knowing smile carving on her lips as her ocean blue eyes searched the grumpy man's face. she wanted to know why he was acting like he had a pole shoved up that ass of his, and yet, she knew it wasn't her business to ask. they were complete strangers, and he didn't seem to be the friendly strangers either, the ones that will gladly introduce themselves to you and talk about random topics. oh no, the second she had laid eyes on this bloke, he had acted like her father and disproved of her attire. whatever, it wasn't as if she actually cared what he thought of her, a beach bum no less. she loved the beach, and it wasn't as if she was pursuing a career in beach related jobs. oh no, she wanted to become a neurosurgeon, and this job, being a lifeguard at the beach, it was just a good way to relieve some of her stress from the hectic classes she had to take to get where she wanted to be.
and here she thought his ramblings were over. yet again, he mentioned her clothing attire, and how she would have known about the consequences, coming in, dressing the way she was. yeah right, if every woman came in thinking the same thing, they would never enjoy themselves, too worried about what other people would have been thinking about them. roxanne didn't come in here looking for a man, she came in here to get a drink and to go on her merry little way. she had no desire to get hit on by a middle aged menopausal old man. it was what, three in the afternoon? she would have expected them all to be at work at this time of the day. guess she was wrong. but whatever, this man probably thought she was here looking for some guy to take home with her. as if. let him think that he wanted though, he was just some beach hooligan after all, who had nothing better to do than come to bars dressed like a beach bum, and ask for old men to come onto her. she smiled at him, pearly whites visible. god damn him, even if he was acting like her father, he was amusing to her otherwise boring ass day. she wouldn't hold it against him, the way he was acting. it was entertaining, to say the least. when had she never complained about it? one thing would be if she was dragging what had happened on and on, crying on his shoulder, telling him that she hated being this beautiful, that she hated all the unwanted attention she got as a result. no, she had mentioned it once, thanking him for what he did, even if it was not necessary, and then proceeded to introduce herself, and try to get his name, in which, it seemed, didn't necessarily work out. a nagging desire to tell this guy off was at the pit of her stomach, when he had the nerve to proceed on how he had a job, and actually had to work. oh please, here he was, a complete stranger, already thinking that she was just another female doing nothing in her life. let him think what he wants, she didn't have to explain herself to some grumpy man, no matter how appealing he was. she sighed deeply, running a hand through her dark hair, thinking how long his ramblings were going to take. aha, so he worked at platinum. interesting, only men that were pigs worked there, and here she was, giving her a lecture about where she worked, where scantly clad females paraded around him. but what followed next, well, it seemed he didn't exactly enjoy working there. was he gay? it didn't seem like it, but one never knew. 'i never said you came in here to meet woman, and what i was thinking isn't even close to what you're inferring too, your words not mine,' she replied back, a smile at her full pout. sure, he was being an asshole, but whatever, roxanne was a nice girl, and besides, he didn't seem like a genuinely asshole who was like this all the time, at least she hoped so. living day to day with this kind of attitude, well, it must seriously suck. when he leaned in next, his head closing in on hers, in a more intimate level, roxanne was actually surprised that he had found some good in that body of his, and decided to half apologize to the way he had been acting since they ran into each other. she dismissed it away, waving her hand gently. 'no, it's fine, don't worry about it. everyone has their off days, yours just seems to be more overboard than others,' she smiled at him.
NOTES ' hi
TAGGED ' blah ! |
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