Thread: Ð¸ÑÏ ÑÑcÑÏÎ¹Ñ  \\. ÑÐ½Î±ÑÏÎ¹Î¹ & Ð½Î±ÑÑÎ¹ÑÑ

Claire was a hard working girl, tried to do everything she could to keep it that way as well. No matter the sleeze bags that walked into the bar, or how many tips she didn't get because she decided not to flash some customer's. Most of the time she was taken care of, her boss being a friend of her Father made things easier for her as well to get time off and still get paid. But what she didn't know a thing about, was responsibility. Never had the care in the world to try and take charge of anything unless it was her life. And even then she was still a little ransom about things. She was young, twenty-two. Although she's worked at the bar since she was seventeen, even with being underage the drinking limit. And she had even brought a couple more guys into the bar while she was younger, so the owner really didn't have anything to complain about. If she was lucky, she'd get her fair share of alcohol after closing when she was cleaning up. In fact, she had made a couple of the other bartenders, older and more filled out woman, jealous with all the attention she was getting without even trying to get it. Not that Claire was hurt, or felt guilty about watching them walk out with their last paycheck, she was rather delighted. More money for her, and less work to have to do to get it. Tonight was one of those nights, however. You just wanted to get everything done as fast as you could, even if it was all half assed, just to get home soon as possible. It had been a little slow, some fussy guys trying to cheap her out of money they owed, and the usual perverted truckers who needed to learn how to speak clearly. Didn't help that Claire was running out of smokes, and didn't have enough money to buy herself something to eat and call a taxi. She'd have to wait until she got home, but couldn't get home until she finished swiping down the tables and stacking them, sweeping, and doing the dishes. So far, she had been able to sweep, but would most likely have to do more after everyone finally left. Couldn't do much of the tables, since most were still in some kind of use. She could, however, start on the dishes. Get them gathered, then start putting some in the back to get washed by the dishwashers until she was finished to go back and help out. Claire would have to gather all the ones that weren't in use, though. Meant she had to interact with the perverts and whores. the only part of the job she didn't enjoy. The odd occasion, she'd get a gentlemen, or a woman that was just stopping in for some food and a glass of water. But it was rare. Tonight there only seemed to be one that wasn't asking her questions that she didn't have to answer, or trying to pull on her ratty, holy jeans. Grabbing a tray from behind the bar, she moved towards empty tables. Lifting the empty cups, she placed them onto the surface of the tray and went along to another. Going back to the bar when it was full, she placed them on the window's ledge that lead to the back, smiling towards the male working back there, as if saying she was sorry to give him more work. Turning on her heels, she narrowed her gaze and chose which group of people to approach first. Pushing her lips together, she mentally shrugged and went towards the three males that were laughing about something on the small television hanging within the corner of the room over the bar. Are you Gentlemen done? The question was polite, short, and to the point. One of the males, extremely unattractive and over weight, seemed to be getting an eyeful. Made a snark remark, causing Clarie's smile to instantly drop and her gaze harden. His hand moved, dropping his fork beside his chair. Sighing, she waited for him to get it. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes at his childish behavior and bent over to pick it up. Feeling the slap almost sent her over the edge. Clenching her hand around the handle of the fork, she straightened and turned on her heels, getting out of reach before he could do anything else. ' Just have to wait for them to fuck off, then. ' Adding the fork to the plates and beer glasses, her shoulders rolled as she tried to relax. It was getting a bit hot inside the bar, and with her getting constantly annoyed, it didn't help. Raising a hand, one that was covered with a fingerless leather glove, she pulled at the neck of her white muscle shirt and pushed her hand into her back pocket, reaching for her pack of smokes. Moving towards a separate door that lead to the storage room, she exhaled deeply and clenched her eyes as she entered. Tonight was one of the worst nights she had ever had here, and it was almost enough to drive her over the edge to quit. But she couldn't do that to Jeb, it'd break his heart. And who else would bar tend? It was only him and her. Didn't made things easy for him if she left. And it was like a second home. Fucking assholes, The door didn't close behind her, however. Someone had caught the door and stepped inside before it had a chance to hit the door frame like it usually did. Blinking, she turned around, hand still within her back pocket, trying to fish out the cigarettes. She hadn't expected the harsh slap across the face, her body shifting, and her cheek slammed into the shelf beside them. Collapsing to the floor after the impact, she groaned and clenched her eyes. Hit the ground pretty hard, as well. Enough to bruise her forehead, only adding to the gash she could feel from the steel she had just smashed her face off of. Rolling onto her back, not all there to be concerned with her attacker still in the room, she raised a hand and touched her left cheek, just under her eye. Winching, it stung, and was slightly throbbing. Her fingers were covered in crimson liquid, sending panic into her body, her adrenaline starting to rush faster as soon as she caught sight of the heavy set male at her feet.