Post by RAIRA MATIU HATURINI on May 26, 2013 14:08:13 GMT -6
you know you can't remain the same
In downtown Newport, there is a small pub. Many small pubs actually, but there is a specific one I'm talking about: Tim's Bar. The lighting in the aforementioned building was dim, and the air was heavy with the smell of smoke even though smoking inside was forbidden. However the smell still lurks about, hanging thick in the nostrils of nearly every customer. People who visited this bar had a tendency to be there every night of the week. Tables weren't cleaned on a regular basis, for the waitresses were to busy talking amongst each other. Scattered about on the wooden surfaces of almost every table were beer bottles, some half empty though most had been depleted of the sweet nectar inside. Everyone inside, save for a few people, were too occupied with their failed social interactions. There were always those middle-aged men trying to pick up on an inexperienced young woman. Then of course, there were your regular, haggard bar whores. You know the kind I'm talking about; old women who's breasts were nearly falling out of their black tanktops, and who wore stretchy pants entirely way too tight. Oh, and most of them had hair that had been processed so many times all the color was gone and the ends of their hair were frizzy and messy looking.
If you shifted your gaze from the aging alcoholics littered about to the bar, you would see a man of average height. He probably stood at around six feet, give or take a few inches. From a far away perspective he himself looked quite average but upon closer inspection you would find he wasn't. The mystery man's name is Raira and he happened to be employed at the small establishment. Moonlighting bartender was his second job title, as surf instructor was his first and foremost. He enjoyed talking to others and had an extrodinary ability to separate himself from all the work drama that was sure to fall into his lap each and every night.
Tonight was just like every other night. Raira stood on his tiring feet, shifting his weight back and forth between his two legs. Draped over his shoulder was a dingy, off-white dish towel he used for polishing drinking glasses and wiping down the solid piece of Redwood trunk that made up the bar's counter. Azure eyes scanned the bustling pub; it seemed that everyone was set on drinks for the time being. Pulling the rag from his shoulder, he stared down as he wiped up condensation and other small amounts of liquid.
Mr. Haturini's day had been rather typical. He'd woken up at eleven, smoked, then shuffled off to the surf shop and sat there basically all day. Two hours or so was all he had between jobs, and today he didn't spend them so well. A yawn crawled out from the depths of his lungs, and his eyes squinted shut. Tonight was going to be a long night and it had only just begun.
TAG pandy/marie; WORDS 497
[/center][/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]If you shifted your gaze from the aging alcoholics littered about to the bar, you would see a man of average height. He probably stood at around six feet, give or take a few inches. From a far away perspective he himself looked quite average but upon closer inspection you would find he wasn't. The mystery man's name is Raira and he happened to be employed at the small establishment. Moonlighting bartender was his second job title, as surf instructor was his first and foremost. He enjoyed talking to others and had an extrodinary ability to separate himself from all the work drama that was sure to fall into his lap each and every night.
Tonight was just like every other night. Raira stood on his tiring feet, shifting his weight back and forth between his two legs. Draped over his shoulder was a dingy, off-white dish towel he used for polishing drinking glasses and wiping down the solid piece of Redwood trunk that made up the bar's counter. Azure eyes scanned the bustling pub; it seemed that everyone was set on drinks for the time being. Pulling the rag from his shoulder, he stared down as he wiped up condensation and other small amounts of liquid.
Mr. Haturini's day had been rather typical. He'd woken up at eleven, smoked, then shuffled off to the surf shop and sat there basically all day. Two hours or so was all he had between jobs, and today he didn't spend them so well. A yawn crawled out from the depths of his lungs, and his eyes squinted shut. Tonight was going to be a long night and it had only just begun.
TAG pandy/marie; WORDS 497
