Another night at work (OPEN)

Light peaked through the closed curtains, enveloping the entire room in a soft glow. Piles upon piles of clothes were revealed on the beige carpet as the sunshine continued to push through the blinds. Everything had become highlighted; the empty soda cans, the open condom wrappers, and most importantly the interesting piece of glass that sat upon the man's night table. Standing tall, over a foot in height, was a device he used in order to smoke marijuana. The bong was interesting looking for certain. It was flared at the mouth, and the shaft irregularly shaped. Dull glass teeth poked out along the side. On the front face of the piece was a hazel colored eye protruding out. squinting, with a weary look. A light sea foam green was the hue of most of the rather large piece. Resting on the bottom of the inside was the bowl's stem, curved and coated with a thick layer of resin. The bowl piece itself was also covered with a thick coat of the tar-like substance. It too had an eye, but there were also tentacles swirling out from the sides. The water was filthy, and it had obviously been used heavily by the man laying shirtless in the king sized bed.

Smacking his lips together, Raira slowly began to awaken. After he had clocked out from his first job, he had decided to go home and take a well deserved nap. It had been a extremely tiring day for Mr. Haturini. Tired was simply, an understatement. At the end of each day, he had found himself exhausted. This was not normal for the normally energetic man. He had become complacent in his life; everything had become routine. Seldom did he do anything different.

Stretching his tanned arms above his brunette head, he sighed happily and rolled over to face the ocean colored bong with a sleepy smile on his face. Reaching an arm out to touch the cooled glass, he sat himself up while also searching for a lighter of some sort. Grasping a regular sized orange BIC lighter, Raira grabbed the glass and placed it between his bare knees. Green herbs were loaded into the bowl, and shortly after he placed flame onto the crystalline plant. Inhaling deeply and slowly, he ceased burning. Quickly Raira pulled the male piece out of the female and sucked the thick, swirling smoke from the tube. He repeated this process multiple times until the familiar feeling of sublime, washed over his entire toned body. Breathing in, exhaling; soon he felt like himself. Soon his feelings of complacency disappeared. At this moment, he began to think to himself. What was there to do at this point in time? Sadly, nothing popped into his mind. Maybe a trip to the bar? There wasn't a way he could go to his other place of employment, as they'd possibly try to lure him into work.

Then her face washed over his mind. Those striking, magical pools of ice cold water.. Anya was her name. Surely he would go pay her a visit as he had promised her earlier in the week.

Peeling himself from the memory foam mattress, he rose to his bare feet. His own blue eyes searched for a pair of jeans that would be suitable to wear for the evening. Raira decided to wear the shirt he wore to work and quickly pulled it from the edge of his large bed. Slipping his arms into the holes, an image of the jeans he wanted to wear flashed in his mind. The last place he had seen the ripped jeans was on top of his dirty clothes hamper. Tossing and ripping through the previously worn articles, he captured the pants and slipped them on his body.

- - - - - - - - -

Cool air gently pushed against his face. If it weren't for the noire beanie placed upon his head, his hair surely would be flying behind him. Not that his locks were too long, as they were of average length. The assumed place that young Anya was employed at soon came into sight. A gentle curvature pulled at the corners of his inviting lips, and he found himself standing in front of the small bar. Pulling the handle, he took a breath and entered the building.

Almost instantaneously, his nostrils were greeted with the well known smell of desperation and self-loathing. Working as a bartender, Ray had become accustomed to the depressing atmosphere that bars usually provided. But then his eyes had found her. She was rather beautiful, and her online pictures did her no justice. For a moment he stood there, gawking like an idiot. He had hoped with all his being that she did not feel his eyes staring, and he went to find a seat at one of the many round tables.

TAG anya/jules; WORDS 812

His arm moved to rest on the back of the chair which sat juxtaposed from his own. His leg relaxed and bent loosely at the knee, spread beneath the other chair. Smooth should have been this man's middle name, for the way he looked up at her would have made an iron statue turn to jelly. The entire scene belonged in the movie Grease. The way that Mr. Haturini carried himself was extremely confident, but not cocky. Oh no, he was much too humble to be full of himself. But that didn't stop him from occasionally turning on the charm. He was after all, smooth like Summer honey. "I'm a man of my word Anya." There was the accent that he had guaranteed her. Sultry and exotic, however sweet and comforting as well. His entirety was that of Summer; breezy but smoldering. Being around him made you feel out of breath, due to the sheer intensity that he brought to the table. Her words were soft on his ear drums, and her tone like silk. She had a beautiful sounding voice, which was without a doubt very befitting for her.

"What do you guys have on tap here?" This was always his first question when visiting a bar. One of the reasons he had applied for a bartending job at Tim's Bar and Grill was that they had an insane amount of mature beers on tap. He himself enjoyed a nice, stout Indian Pale Ale. Full of the hoppy flavor he so much loved. Occasionally of course, he did enjoy hard alcohol but most of the time he was content smoking a bowl of greens. Beer however wss an acquired taste. You don't wake up one day and decide to start drinking dark beers. No, that's not how it works. They have a flavor pallet that appeals to the heartier of human beings. Usually men, but not always. At times you will find that woman who fits right in with the guys. Shes rare a creature, sort of like a unicorn. She does exist though, wherever she may be.

As she stood close to him, he had a chance to catch a whif of her perfume. She smelt like magic, full of mystery and imagination. Women and their scents were an odd thing, all on their own. It was nearly impossible for him to decipher what it was that he liked about the way a woman smelt. How could you pick a part a fragrance that you adored? It was a task that Ray did not want to take on.

TAG anya/jules; WORDS idk on my phone

Even her mannerisms were attractive oddly enough. Her actions reminded him of a classic scene that you'd find in most television shows and in some movies as well, such as Happy Days or the movie Grease. If she had a poodle skirt on, it would be something right out of the ninteen fifties. Picturing the waitress in a large, poofy skirt made him chuckle internally, causing a slight curvature to show on his tanned face. Today particularily, his skin seemed rather rugged. Avoiding shaving all his face the past few days, he had developed a moustache and goatee. Ray didn't like his cheeks being covered in facial hair too much, and generally kept his skin shaved.

"Yes," he winked subtly. "But I'll take a Rolling Rock off tap. Please and thank you Miss."

Courteously he smiled, a corner of his clean shaven face pulling up to one side, the left to be exact. With one arm remaining on the back of a juxtaposed chair, Ray proped up his opposite leg over his other knee and awaited for the young waitress to make her return with his beverage. Ray had a wonderful ability to remain calm, even under nerve-wrecking circumstances. He had met plenty of women in his lifetime, especially while living in the states. American women always seemed to draw to him, and sometimes not even in a sexual manner. He knew that he was attractive, but at the same time knew that he wasn't going to be everyone's cup of tea. He was a humble man, who never let his ego become inflated. Ray knew he was nice to look at, but that didn't make him a different person.

Looking back up to the young lady as she returned to his table, he placed both feet back on the hardwood floor. His clothed arm reached out to her to take the beer. Tilting the glass up to his pink lips, he let the sweet golden nectar flow down his throat. There was nothing like the taste of beer. Rolling rock wasn't terribly expensive, but it was worth the few dollars. Ray was sort of a beer snob, working as a bartender will do that to you though. Having the ability to pick and choose what comes in and out of your bar as far as beer goes, had turned him into a connoisseur of sorts.

"So how is work going so far tonight?"

A light-hearted chuckle passed through his welcoming lips, and he nodded in agreement. He too knew what it was like to want to strangle a customer. Most of his clients at the surf shop were elderly and often they couldn't move the way that it was needed to surf properly, and that grated on his nerves. Of course he'd never say that to anyone, even if he was angry beyong belief with them. Confrontation wasn't his strong suit and in fact avoided it at all costs. He wasn't a negative man by any means, and at all costs remained positive. Being a bartender also had its downfalls. He had to deal with people complainging non-stop, crying and whining and bringing their drama to him. But he was the type to just nod understandingly, and keep his two cents to himself. "I know how that goes."

“You’re welcome,” He smiled, nodding his head towards the young woman. “I was raised in a respectful culture. Maori respect everyone.” He smiled again, returning to his seat and plopping down. Ray understood why she kept getting hooted and hollered at. Just one look at the girl and it’d be obvious to you too, but there was still no justification for the treatment. She was a lady after all, and ladies deserve respect.

Blue orbs inhaled her visually once again, this time starting from her feet and up to her head. He was subtle with his approach, very coy indeed. After his miniature speech on respect, he didn’t want to be caught checking her out. That was just plain rude. A thought flitted across his mind as he searched the small bar. There didn’t seem to be many people in the building, and customers had appeared to stop coming in. Hopefully they had hit their plateau.

“Can you have sit and have a chat? Or do you have things to do?” Raira questioned, his lips forming a smile again. He propped his arm up on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his masculine hand, awaiting a response. He had really hoped she would’ve been able to sit and talk. Ever since their instant messaging a while back on the internet, he hadn’t much of a chance to sit and chat with her. All he knew was that she liked to drink, and that she was nice. He genuinely wanted to get to know the woman who stood before him.

TAG anya/jules; WORDS 263