Mike Rivers (Part 1)
When I first sat down next to her, I didn’t even noticed her. Work had been hell, and I was focused on getting a Guinness into my system as fast as possible.
As I felt the cool, thick liquid slide down my throat, I must have sighed out loud, because she turned my way and said, “Bad day at work?”
That’s when I realized the blonde sitting to my right at the bar. I scanned her quickly, what I could see of her from the waist up at least. Nice smile, with small features. Not a knockout, but definitely cute.
I realized I hadn’t answered her question. “Yeah, you know how work is some days.”
“I’m Brittney,” she said, extending a tiny hand in my direction. “This is Lila,” she said leaning back so I could see the brunette seated next to her, who was busy flirting with the bartender.
“Mike,” I said, shaking her outstretched hand. It felt small and childlike inside my own. I was afraid I’d break it if I squeezed too hard.
“You live here?” she asked, quietly sipping whatever yellow fruity-looking concoction she was drinking.
I didn’t answer right away because I was pounding the Guinness, hoping to chase away the day and enjoy some friendly conversation with the cute blonde. I think she said her name was Brittney. I hope that’s what she said. My head is pounding so hard, I’m having trouble concentrating. Continue reading »


