you had just entered The Last Drop, the bar you were a regular at. your presence wasn’t unknown, many of the drunken men let their gazes wander over your body and your… assets. you couldn’t care less about where they laid their eyes, you would never be into them. ever.

sitting down at the bar, you ordered your usual hard liquor. most would say you don’t look like a woman who would be into whiskey, but you would just have to prove them wrong. you always did.

feeling a tap on your shoulder, you rolled your eyes but turned to face the poor soul who was brave enough to approach you.

you came face to face with a muscular, almost intimidating, older woman. you had seen her around the bar a few times.

“cigarette break?” she asked, offering you a cigarette with her number written up the side of the wrapper. though you knew she never smoked cigarettes, and instead smoked cigars, you delicately took the cigarette from her.

did she go out of her way to buy them for you? how sweet.