Living in the dorms as a college student had its perks, especially when friends pulled you into spontaneous adventures. One Friday evening, just as I was settling in with my textbooks, my friends barged in and insisted we go grab a drink. Reluctantly, I agreed, figuring a break wouldn't hurt.

We ended up at our usual spot, a cozy bar just off campus. After a couple of drinks, I noticed a beautiful girl sitting alone at the counter. She had an air of quiet elegance that drew me in. Mustering up my courage, I approached her and struck up a conversation. After a few minutes, I asked her what she wanted to drink.

"I don't drink alcohol," she said softly.

"No problem," I replied, smiling. I headed back to the bar, ordered her a non-alcoholic drink but, feeling mischievous, asked the big guy with lots of tattoos behind the bar to add a splash of alcohol to it.

Drink in hand, I returned to my friends who were sitting at a table nearby. I placed the drink in front of the girl and turned to my buddy. "What are you up to?" I asked.

"Just waiting to pick up my sister and see my dad," he replied nonchalantly.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Turning around, I came face to face with the tattooed bartender. His expression was anything but unfriendly.