Another One
"What did you say?" She asked the man behind the bar pouring drinks. The music was loud and she couldn't quite make out what he said at first. She began to hear the words in her head.
"You're a beautiful woman."
Wow, it had been so long since she heard that. The tingle in her stomach provoked a smirk on her lips. She had just finished sipping on her third cosmopolitan and asked for another one when she heard,
"You're a beautiful woman"
He must've said it with sincerity since at this point he was staring dead at her with no readable expression on his face. He was just a bartender but he was still kind of cute. Definitely not her type but she might be down for one night of fun. It had also been a while since she’d had…fun. Her heart was pounding louder than the music. The words played back in her head.
"You're a beautiful woman."
It felt ten degrees warmer. Her pulse quickened. Yea that must've been what he said, but she wanted to be sure before she gave a full-on smile.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said you're a horrible woman!"
Shock immediately ran through her body. Horrible?
"Hey!"
"No hey! You're kind of a bitch!" A chorus of "ooo’s" could be heard behind the music. Horrible was nothing like beautiful. Wait a minute, and what the fuck! She couldn’t find the words,
"Wha…what!"
"You ran over multiple people just to get to the corner. You cussed out a woman in a wheelchair, you spilled your drink on another girl, and you've been bitching about my drinks all night!" At this point it was clear his expression was angry.
She had felt the woman in the wheelchair was just being manipulative, using her wheelchair to get quick drinks…making everyone move out of her way to let her to the front of the line. In fact, she questioned if she really needed it.
"I mean you're clearly another one of those entitled, Carrie Bradshaw wanna-be, princesses!" Ouch! That one hurt.
"I mean look at you! What the fuck year do you think it is, and how old are you!" He slammed his palm down on the bar top. "Isn't there an age limit for Manhattan princesses? Your desperate attempt to distract us from your pissy attitude with your boobs poppin' out of that ‘Baby Gap’ tank. At what point do you stop being a princess and start just being a lame-ass excuse for a middle-aged bitch!"
That one really hurt. Yes, she had been binge watching seasons three through five of Sex and the City and both of the movies over the weekend; and yes, she had gone out tonight on a stroke of inspiration as a result. She was only thirty-five! She was nowhere near middle-aged, though she always feared the day she would start looking it. She had worn her favorite baby pink tutu skirt. She had it for years. She never felt she had the legs to pull it off and by the time she finally got the confidence to do so, the look had played out. But tonight, she was inspired and she went with it. She felt pretty hot, until now.
He continued, "And don't think I didn't notice you never tipped me!” He pointed, “How can you be such an awful human being and on top of that, not tip? I mean, if you're gonna be such a cunt you can at least pay for it!”
"Ohhhh!" yelled one smiling woman standing next to her, holding one hand shaped like an "O" over her mouth and leaning back as she said it. She was the girl she spilled her drink on earlier. Even though it was just water, the girl was clearly enjoying this.
The music was loud again. She could no longer hear what he was saying. She could just see his lips moving and his hands waving. He was going full off on her. Like he had run into a thousand women just like her. Like he had held his composure all night and decided to finally release all his life's disgust over women like her in this one moment. She froze. She could see the riotous laughter rolling across the blended faces of those gathered around the bar. One group of young guys in the corner were holding their stomachs in laughter, while a few others were applauding and cheering him on.
She knew this wasn't right. He was just a bartender who worked here, she was a customer! He shouldn't be talking to her that way, but she couldn't seem to do anything about it. She just stood there with a stunned look on her face. She wanted to tell him to fuck off! She wanted to ask him how old he was and that his shirt was tighter than hers! She wanted to tell him she probably reminded him of his ex who left his ass and now he was bitter. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't entitled, she just knew she was better than him. She wanted to tell him that she's reporting him to the club owner and getting his ass fired! But she couldn't. Her lips seemed disconnected from her thoughts. All she could sputter out was, "My father owns this place, and… and…you're done." She didn't even sound harsh, just shy and mousey. Her body was finally able to move and she turned and ran for the exit. Another chorus of laughter ensued.
"Yea, yea that's right! Run and tell your daddy!" He yelled.
It wasn't even true. Her father was a successful business man who owned several businesses in the Manhattan and Brooklyn area, but this was not one of them. She made her way into the hallway and pressed the down button for the elevator. She didn't dare look behind her. She stood there alone, sweating, and breathing hard. The elevator couldn't come fast enough. Just then she heard the ping and then the elevator doors slid open. She scurried in and pressed the LL button. She let out a deep breath.
Just before the doors closed, a man squeezed in-between the doors. He pressed the P3 button. She rolled her eyes. She just wanted to be away from this place. The man turned and looked at her. She glanced back at him and lowered her eyes. He was handsome and kind of looked like a younger version of Mr. Big with a mustache. His eyes widened as he looked at her and smiled.
"You're the horrible woman."
What! Not this shit again! Another one who thinks he knows her! She couldn't believe he said that. What, did he run and follow her out here just to laugh at her some more? That does it!
"Fuck you! Fuck your mother! Fuck your whole damn existence! God! What is it with you hipster pricks, are you too lazy to be gentlemen! No! Impossible, cus you’re not real damn men, are you? No, you're perpetual boy-men who don't know how to earn money and actually be successful enough to attract a woman like me!
The man threw up both hands and stepped back. “Whoa! Wait a minute…”
“No whoa!” She interrupted. “Man, you're an ass-hole! What is it? Your ex-wife was just like me? She got tired of fucking with your sucky ass and what… you came home one day to find her fucking her CEO boss! Yea, I bet that made your boy balls shrivel into shit! And now you hate women like me, every time you see us because we remind you that you aren't man enough to get your shit together! Instead of stepping up your fucking game to get to my fucking level, you whine and complain like 12-year old assholes because we won't give you the time of day! Yea ok, maybe I am a horrible bitch to boys like you-but it’s because I know that I'm better than you! That's right, I said it!"
The elevator doors opened and the LL level light lit up. She stomped out of the elevator past a overly muscular man in a red collared shirt stepping into it. She turned to face the man she was telling off.
“So, the next time you see a woman like me, DON'T! SAY! SHIT! Because a prick like you doesn't deserve a response! But this one...this one was on me!" She turned on her red heels and stomped toward the exit.
The two men in the elevator stood stunned as the doors closed them in.
"Wow man, what did you do to her?"
"Nothing! I…I just said she was a beautiful woman!"
The man with the red shirt shook his head, "Fucking feminist bullshit. Dude, you never know what you can say anymore."