A fictional account of a real woman.
She wasn't his first choice that night when he sat on that pub stool trolling for chicks. In fact, he had already spotted the lady, a delicious redhead, he'd be going home with across the bar. She was flirting with him with her eyes while he maintained a stoic look, driving her crazy. She wasn't used to men ignoring her.
How long before she makes her approach?
he wondered.
Blaine was a hot-looking, twenty-four-year-old, black man in a pub full of white, predominantly middle-aged couples and singles. There was always, he knew, at least one older bird in every pub that was "curious." They were, like the slow antelope, easy prey.
At first, Blaine didn't even see the sweet looking blonde enter. It wasn't until he began flirting with the bartender to tease the redhead that he noticed her in the mirror behind the bar. Now he was flirting with both women...and the bartender. She, the bartender, had her elbows on the bar and was giggling at everything he said. Her face was so close to his she was practically begging to be kissed. The other two heard nothing but thought, surely, he couldn't be that funny.
The bartender picked up his huge hand and placed hers against it. It was like hers was a child's compared to his. Both the blonde and the redhead were very interested when they saw that big black paw dwarfing the bartender's hand. He noticed the blonde shift nervously in her seat. Her legs opened for a moment and he caught a glimpse of her knickers.
He'd always had a thing for blondes (who didn't?) and this one was definitely cute. Blondes with blue panties...it didn't get much better in his mind. She was definitely the one and now was the time to make his move. He walked to the loo and, as he passed her table, he remarked, "Nice knickers" in a voice no one but she could hear.
The pretty, mature blonde was taken completely aback. She didn't know what to say and he kept on walking. She started a slow burn.
What a jerk!
she thought.
How dare he?
At the same time she felt attracted to him. He was a bad boy and it had been a long time since someone like that had come on to her. From the look of him, he could have not only the bartender but any other woman there as well.
On his return, Blaine walked right past her, returning to his seat at the bar, flirting with the bartender as if he'd said nothing at all to the lovely lady with a pussy beginning to percolate. She wanted to tell that arrogant prick off and be closer to him at the same time. If she slapped his face would he take her in his arms?
"Are you always so obnoxious?" she asked nervously, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Pardon me?" he said, swinging his stool around to face her. His legs were splayed wide and he noticed she immediately cast a glance there.
"Watch out, she's pissed," the bartender laughed making Carol even madder.
"She's not pissed," he said to the barkeep but looking at the blonde. "In fact, I bet I can go home with her."
"A beer?" the bartender asked extending her hand to seal the bet.
"Beer," he said, shaking with the bartender.
Carol was completely agape. She didn't know what to say so she just continued what she had come up to get off her chest.
"Do you always make rude statements to women old enough to be your mother?"
"What statement was that, luv?"
"There should be no confusion. You've only made the one."
"I guess you lost me."
"Is this about the knickers?" the bartender interjected.
"He told you?" the woman gasped.