We passed the pub. We turned around, found the pub, pulled out our passports for the bouncer, walked into the alleyway leading to the pub. It was a small pub, upstairs, through a small door, lit up all red. One of the girls I was with was only 18 and a bit nervous because it was her first time going out, legally. She stopped at the door, “You go first!” The four guys drinking outside the door looked at us strangely. I laughed. “Oh my GAWD." I walked up the stairs, leading the pack. I walked to the bar, I ordered a pint of some Extra Pale Ale I don’t remember the name of, I sat down next to a very drunk Scotsman who kind of gave me the creeps. They all ordered their drinks and joined me, the creeper, and his friend. We all had interestingly creepy chat. I bought another pint. The creep got the hint after asking, “But then who’s going to be my tour guide to Coney Island!?” for the millionth time, and left us with an empty booth. A very cute musician started playing covers of Red Hot Chili Peppers and Johnny Cash and he kept looking at me. Somebody asked if I wanted a shot. I said yes, two shots of the most expensive, please, and gave her five pounds. She went up to the bar, it wasn’t enough for two shots. A man came up and traded my five for a ten and told us to get a certain whisky. We did. He told us we had to take it like a proper shot. We cringed. We plugged our noses. We took them like proper shots. Straight back. It was smooth and delicious and sweet like honey. Delwhinnie Whisky. We scrounged up our change. We got another. We got… another? The musician sat beside me. I told him he was amazing. He thanked me - our accents clashed. We were both drunk. My friends were leaving, I asked if he had facebook. He said he isn’t on, but he has twitter. We attempt to follow each other on twitter, with the crap pub WiFi. He sees I’m from California, “California!” I laugh, yes. I have to go, I tell him so. I smile and praise him again and I leave. I giggle down the stairs with my group of girls. We decide to go to another pub. We walk across the street but the pub/club is boring, the music has stopped, everyone’s left. I say let’s go to the pub I went to the other night! We giggle down the street, I feel like a mama bear. We can’t find the pub, we ask for directions. I’m drunk. We walk down an empty street and I see a very handsome man smoking a cigarette in the doorway. I walk up to him, with my phone in hand. I look up at him, “Excuse me, do you know where Johnny Foxes is?” While I’m speaking he starts to smirk, and then that’s when I notice the hotel sign peeping out from behind his head. I chuckle, shake my head and say, “Well of course you don’t, you’re at a hotel, you aren’t from around here.” At the same time he tells me he’s not from around here. Regardless, he attempts to help. It’s blurry. He smells good. Like smoke and man. He has stubble on his cheeks. He’s dark. He’s fit. He’s beautiful. I tell him. I think he was saying something, or maybe I was? About the pub being by the river or where we are on the map on my phone. Whatever it is, whoever it is, I interrupt. I look him dead in the eye and I say, “You are ridiculously attractive.” The girls I’m with yell at me. What did you just say? He smiles at me. It’s a sweet smile. He says something I don’t remember. I snap back into reality and I run. I jog down the street and away from the gorgeous man. We have to turn around and pass him again to get to the pub. He’s crossing the street to a car. He’s not wearing shoes.
£3.50 Whisky
Updated: Jan 30, 2024
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