Thread: Over the Tracks (Corybantic + Blinkk)

Saturday night. It was the busiest night of the week, known as tourist seasons by the locals. On Friday nights, the 9-to-5ers across the city had a regular. Either within walking distance of their work, or stumbling distance of their home if they had any sense. But Saturday, people could venture out of their comfort zones. And just like international travel, there were those who went where they could fully immerse themselves in the lifestyle and culture, who found the places where the locals frequented and could even pass as one in bad light. They earn the native's grudging respect. Then there were the other kind. The kind that would go to France and stay at the Hyatt on McDonalds and Starbucks, not even comprehending that they were having anything less than the authentic experience. The local population had nothing but contempt for thesee people. The majority avoiding them, and the rest exploiting them, in one way or another. The club that Harrison worked at was one of a strip of such places. Located on at the overlap between the industrial area of town and the low rent residential zone, it was known locally as the fly trap. Saturday night was a smorgasbord for the local grifters, dealers, lotharios, working girls and boys. It was not the most rewarding job Harrison had ever held, But the tips were phenomenal, if you could handle the condescending attitude that came with them. Frat boys, suits, skirts, housewives, trophy wives, silver spoons looking to piss off mom and pop, Harrison was their best friend for as long as it took to sell them something sticky, wet and socially lubricating. And the mystique of the bartender didn't hurt the notches in his bedposts all that much. Although he rarely made it anywhere near as conventional a location as that. This was a Saturday like any other. The first hour or so were people who had truly lost their way. Arriving at a club before 8pm red flagged them immediately. Usually, Harrison, Kenny or Yvonne suggested a place more their pace. After short pouring them a couple of rounds, of course. Slowly the lost and lonely were replaced by the determined. These tended to arrive between 9 and 10, and were usually evenly split between men and women, cruising for an 'authentic' experience. Not coincidentally the pushers and dealers arrived now to, ready to provide this. For a price. Knots of regulars would gather in the dark corners for some friendly banter, or perhaps strategy sessions. The groups would disperse shortly before 11, and then the fun begins. Harrison had just finished grabbing a quick smoke while changing over some kegs down in the taproom, and took a couple of deep breaths to convince himself that it really was worth it to head back out there. Tips were good tonight, but he was getting tired of having to deal with people. With a shake of his head, he pushed through the swing doors and confronted the heaving mass of people. The beats throbbed through the sound system like the pulse of a ravenous predator. The bar was three deep and, donning his game face, Harrison picked a patron at random started to fill orders. 3 Millers. there you are. Cosmo, appletini and two dos equis. On it. Here you go. Rum and Coke. He had to confess his eye had been caught by the vivid blue top, and the creamy delights he could fantasize were contained within. Pro tip? Hot girls get faster service, and better service too. She had given her order and then apparently lost interest in him, expecting her order to appear as if summoned by magic. It was probably how she was used to drinks appearing, he thought to himself. A quick evaluation saw a slight figure with impressive curves. The outfit was elegant, so definitely not trying to fool herself that she was blending in. Money, definitely. Came with a group of friends, all girls. Ronnie was halfway though his regular game of 'bet I can guess your star sign with a blonde, and another tourist was trying his luck with another. The girl that had caught his eye seemed a little wide-eyed, so he was fairly sure this wasn't her idea to come here, or really her idea of a great time. She was still facing away, so he only had barely a profile to look at, but there was definitely a graceful line to her neck and a delicacy to her jaw that he found quite alluring. He thought he might as well extend this transaction as long as he could. Usually he could play it just right to ensure that she would come back to him for her next, and subsequent drinks, giving him more opportunities to lay some groundwork. White or Black? he shouted back above the bass that had just dropped.