Camille somewhat exhaustedly walked down the streets of New Orleans searching for a good restaurant. She had just gotten off a 14 week contract outside of Lincoln, Nebraska where the only seafood was frozen and trucked in from hundreds of miles away and all the restaurants had names that paid homage to Louisiana. She swore that when she took the job in New Orleans, she'd get a taste of the real thing as soon as she pulled in, but instead she spent that last 5 days eating hospital cafeteria food. Almost by habit, she had left her work and started heading back to her hotel room, but convinced herself to take a detour to a spot that one of her patients had told her about.
She passed the cross streets that she'd been told to look for and came upon a small bar that was so inconspicuous she almost missed it. She sighed to herself, "Well, this is it," and tried to stuff down an underwhelmed feeling. She was well into six figures in her savings and was set to make over $56,000 during her time in the city, so she had become accustomed to treating herself to something a little nicer than old dive bars. She was a sucker for her older patients though, and Ms. Virginia in room 2672 had insisted on her eating here.
As she walked through the colorful, quirky looking double doors, she let her hair out of the tight bun it had been in for the past 16 hours, almost consciously allowing herself to put the work day behind her. She had silky shoulder length dark hair with blonde highlights throughout it. It was naturally wavy, and her mother always told her it was beautiful when she let it down, but 90% of the people she interacted with would see it in the messy bun that she wore to work.
The "restaurant" looked to be a converted old shotgun house, maybe a quarter full at best, and she didn't see any staff in the place. "I guess I'll seat myself then." She motioned towards a two top in the corner, but thought the better of it and grabbed an empty seat at the close end of the bar as she saw the bartender come out from the kitchen. There was a part of her that felt like she could use the peace after a long workweek, but she couldn't pass up her first opportunity to do a little flirting in a new city.
Gaining male attention was always enjoyable, but it had become a real pastime over the past 3 years or so that she'd been traveling. Once every few weeks, she'd follow through and get some dick when she felt like she needed it, but it really wasn't about that. It was just knowing that she could if she wanted to. She left a lot of men wanting, and she could be seen as a bit of a tease in that regard, but she didn't really care what anyone else thought about it.
She had time to reminisce on all this, as the bartender made no quick motion towards her. She thought he'd noticed her, but he appeared to be engaged in a conversation with a couple on the other end of the bar, who she figured were regulars by the way they conversed. She didn't mind, as it gave her a minute to peruse him.
He was tall -- maybe a bit over 6 feet -- and obviously spent a good deal of time in a gym. His shirt was fitted in a way that didn't make a big fuss about it, but he was leaned forward with his arms out against the bar, and she couldn't help but take in his triceps and the way the shirt fell around his back and shoulder muscles. He looked to be a few years younger than her -- she figured mid to late 20s -- and he had a cute, almost goofy smile. He had thick, curly brown hair that she guessed came down past his shoulders, but it was tied up in a large bun on the top of his head. Typically a man bun would be an instant turn off for her, but maybe from her own experience, she recognized it as more of a "work bun." Overall, he wasn't her type, but he was undeniably attractive. He finally pushed off the bar and motioned towards her.
"Hey there. You ordering something to go?"
She was instantly caught off guard.
"Um...well, no. I mean the sign outside said you don't close for another hour and a half. I was going to sit down and eat." She could feel herself getting a little adversarial and decided to throw a smile in to dial it back a bit. "Unless you're trying to run me off of course."
"Oh no, of course not!"
"There's that goofy smile of his," she thought.
"It's just....well 99 times out of 100 if someone walks in in scrubs by themselves, they act like they've got something important to get back to and are trying to get out of here as quickly as possible."
"Oh, well I guess I'm that one percent, because I have absolutely nothing to do tonight other than sit here and talk to you." She subtly dipped her shoulders down and tilted her head so that she was looking up at him as she said this.
"Oh I'm sure there are much better things to do on a Saturday night here." He looked down at the bar top for a second as he responded and quickly shifted to stocking a drink caddy in front of her. She couldn't tell if he was nervously distracting himself from her advances out of shyness or just trying to work. For a second, she thought he might be taken, but decided she'd make it his responsibility to tell her if that was the case.
"Well maybe there are, but I've only been here for five days, and I've spent all of that in a hotel room, hospital, or somewhere in between, so I guess I'll have to settle for you."
"Ah, doing the traveling nurse gig I'm guessing?" He asked, gesturing at her scrubs.
She caught his eyes widen very subtly as he glanced at her uniform. She'd been through several brands and sizes of scrubs before eventually settling on a mismatch. She had wide hips and toned, thick legs, and a medium pant felt snug around her bottom half while still letting her move when she needed to. That was the easy part. The issue was her breasts, or, "the girls," as she called them. They were a 32 DD according to Victoria's Secret, and they weren't the melons that most men expected from just the shear mention of "DD," but they were proportionally brilliant. The contrast between them and her midsection made it so that almost nothing managed to fit over them and not look like a sleep shirt on the rest of her body though, and she had spent too many hours of her little free time in godforsaken spin classes to not show off. After a good bit of trial and error, she found a designer brand that somehow managed to stay tight around them, then drop off and hug her body all the way down to her hips. None of this seemed to be lost on him at the time, and if he was taken, he was enjoying a show at the very least.
"Oh you're smart too," she said playfully, bringing his eyes back to hers.
""Eh, I don't know about that, maybe a bit of a smart ass at best."
"Hmmm," She paused and gave him an inquisitive look, "not sure how I like that, but maybe you'll be more palatable after I get a beer and some food in me." She realized she hadn't broken eye contact and found herself naturally coming on a little stronger than usual, but frankly she was having fun with it.
"So at first I'm all you have and now I'm not palatable!?" He jokingly retorted.
"Hey, look, I was just being nice. I came here because I'm starving and haven't had seafood in months, not to come on to the bartender. You were just a nice bonus."
"I suppose I can deal with being a bonus. Should I do my job then?"
"Oh please! Fetch me a beer noble barkeep!"
They continued the banter for a few more minutes as he talked her through the menu. Rightly guessing that she wouldn't spring for the bevy of fried food that took up the majority of the menu, he sold her on blackened redfish and a local lager.
He typed in the order, printed out a few receipts, and scurried out from behind the bar. Her eyes followed him for a second, wondering what he was going for before realizing that he was just getting menus to a few tables that had sat while they were talking. She politely reminded herself that it's okay not to be the center of the universe, and turned to her phone to entertain herself until he returned. After more than a few minutes went by, she looked up, wondering why he still wasn't back. "Guess the redfish is the best thing I'll be having tonight."
She turned over her shoulder to see him dropping a check at a table behind her. Her eyes kept following him without her letting it be too conspicuous. Her phone had lost her attention, and it was fun to watch him move around the place. At some point she realized she hadn't seen another staff member since she sat down, which made her mild annoyance turn to respect. The place was woefully under packed for a Saturday night, but there looked to be more business than what she would figure appropriate for one person. She knew it wasn't the most flattering side of her, but she didn't usually have much appreciation for the lower semi-skilled trades. What she did respect, regardless of occupation, was hard work and competency.
He finally came back behind the bar, but looked hurried, so she left him alone. He poured about half a dozen beers, put one in front of her without her having asked for it, and turned to the computer system. It was a bit bold, but she liked it.
"Mistake? I'll take it."
