Escalating Series of Surprises Ch. 01

Hello Readers! This is Part One of a Two-Part story. Both parts are written and will be posted in order.

Chapter 1: The Girl at the Bar

"Come on Charli, I just drove by it on the way over," Nancy said, pointing at the window, as though it was sitting on my parents' front lawn, "it was packed and you could hear the music from the street."

"I have very important things to do," I said. At that particular moment, I was laying on the couch with the strings on my hoody pulled so tight that I could only see out of a little pinhole. I was vaguely aware that House Hunters or something was on the television. I had only seen this one seven times. For some reason, Nancy didn't believe me.

"All you do is bitch and moan about how there is nothing to do in this town," Nancy said.

"True," I admitted. Though, in all honesty, I was all talk on that front. I liked the fact that nothing ever changed in this town. It was its only appealing feature.

"And now they finally opened up a bar downtown and you don't want to go. You won't even sit up and turn off your mom's TV show," she said, sounding more than a little disgusted.

I sighed and shifted the little porthole of my hoody in the direction of Nancy's voice. She was standing by my front door, dressed in a tight black dress and heels. Make up flawless. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was tapping her foot.

This was classic Nancy. She was always trying to get me to, like, go do things and meet people. She said stuff like 'you have to make the most out of the time you have on Earth,' and 'it is worth a try.' And she always insisted that I would have fun if I just tried things.

In short, she was the absolute worst.

But, also, my very best friend in the entire world. Because the universe is fundamentally unfair. I pulled myself into a sitting position with a groan and loosened my hood, pulled it back.

"Drinking isn't fun anymore, now that I can legally drink," I said, which was sort of true. I had been 21 for a month now. Nancy was a year older than me.

"So get some cranberry juice and just talk to people," Nancy said, "I am not trying to get us shitfaced. I am trying to get us laid."

I groaned and flopped back down onto the couch. It wasn't that I didn't want to get laid. I mean, it was late July. I had been home from college for like three months and I hadn't had sex in all that time. In fact, now that I thought about it, I hadn't had sex in the two months or so before classes ended. Not since Crystal broke up with me. But the thing was, Nancy knew as well as I did that we were definitely not going to get laid if we went to a bar in Hicksville, USA. It was a waste of effort. Nancy had already done too much by getting dressed, putting on makeup, and having hopes and dreams.

"Yeah, but even if there is finally a bar in this town, I mean it is still going to just be the same people. They didn't import new people into this shit hole," I said, hoping that would end the argument. The truth was, I was more than a little anxious about the possibility that there WOULD be something new and different at this new bar. I liked to know when things were coming, I didn't like being blindsided. Either by an unexpected request to go out, or by some new bar with possibly new stuff.

"You never know," Nancy said, "It might attract a different class of people into town." I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"The class of women who have sex with other women in this town is a class of two. Me and you. (Maybe Coach Mueller from high school, but...no). And, gorgeous as you are, Nance, I am not going to have sex with you. It'd be like...sleeping with my sister," I said, my lip curling up at the thought. Nancy and I had been best friends since the third grade. She was the only person in this town who kind of understood me. Even if I only kind of understood her.

"Again," Nancy said.

"What?" I asked.

"Having sex with me 'again' would be like sleeping with your sister," Nancy said, raising her eyebrows and staring daggers at me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, incredulously. I was no virgin, but I was pretty sure I could remember all the people I had sex with. And I didn't believe in shitting where I ate. I would never...

"Halloween, two years ago!" Nancy said.

"Oh shit," I said grimacing, "I forgot." We had been out, had a little to drink but not enough, we were watching horror movies and feeling bored. We had just said, 'eh, why not' and had some fun. I mean, Nancy was cute even if she wasn't my, you know, relationship type. Too peppy and positive. And outgoing and adventurous.

"Evidently," Nancy said, shaking her head, more bemused than angry, "I thought it was pretty good, actually,"

"It was! You did that thing with your tongue where..." I started.

"Where it makes you forget you had sex? I mean Christ, Charli we knew it wasn't going to be a relationship, but I thought it meant something," Nancy said, annoyed. I started to open my big fat mouth about it again. And then stopped, and sighed. There was, of course, one way out of this stupid mess I'd made and it was obvious.

"Hey, not to change subjects, but do you want to go check out that new bar in town?" I asked, sweetly. Nancy sort of sighed and shrugged.

"Alright, I don't feel like fighting either," she said, I sat up, smiled, kissed her cheek, and then I started getting my shit together to go out.

* * * * *

Like forty-five minutes later, the security guard at "Roche's Bar and Grill" was intently studying my ID. Yes, I looked a little younger than 21. But at the same time, the "security guard" was Doug Whitley, who had known me since kindergarten.

"If I wasn't 21 before you started, I am now," I said, reaching for my license. Doug pulled it back.

"Charlotte?" He said, looking up at me and squinting.

"It isn't a fake ID, you dingus," I said, snatching the license away, "Charli is short for Charlotte. You didn't think my parents named me Charles, did you?" Doug threw his head back and said "Ooooh," and then nodded emphatically.

"Okay, that makes sense," he said.

"My mother will be happy to know you approve," I said.

"Well, you are the best looking Charli I've ever seen," Doug said and I cursed Nancy under my breath. I had been very happy to go to the bar wearing my hoody and a pair of pajama pants. Nancy had insisted that I wear something 'decent.' I told her that I had had no illusions about getting laid and that it was better to be comfortable. She said she didn't care if I wanted to get laid, but she would have a hard time hitting on women if there was a homeless person following her around everywhere. Which was fair. So I got all dolled up.

Though, even cleaned up, I wasn't 100% sure Doug was even right. There were probably better looking Charlis. I mean, I guessed I looked alright. I am short, with medium length, dark red hair. I have a sprinkling of freckles across my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. I have green eyes and wear chunky glasses. I have pouty pink lips (which is appropriate, on account of my tendency to pout). I have small breasts and a compact, athletic body. I have sort of a big butt and thighs, but not so big that it really stands out. Tiny feet too. It was hot, so I was wearing a thin tank top and had a short(ish) skirt on and flats. I guess I was Doug's type, even if he really, really really wasn't mine.

"Doug, you remember high school right?" I said and Doug looked at me strangely, but nodded, "Remember how sophomore year I told everyone I was a lesbian? And Mrs. Cooper threw a fit because of Jesus? And she wrote that letter to the school superintendent saying I shouldn't be allowed to go to school? And then the state government had to come and perform sensitivity training? Does any of that ring a bell?"

"Oh yeah, that was nuts," Doug agreed.

"So are you really hitting on me, Doug?" I asked and his brow furrowed, "You know, because you know and have known for like five years that I only want to sleep with chicks?" Doug nodded sagely.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Doug said, even though that wasn't really a response to thing I said, "I guess, just like take it as a compliment then," he offered. I was about to say something smart back, but then I stopped. And realized, you know, he was right. That was kind of nice. It was good to be complimented. I sort of puffed up a little, feeling better. See it was good to only deal with people you know.

"Yeah, okay, thanks Doug," I said, "Good work on the security guarding."

"Thanks!" he said, and then he turned to take the ID of the next person in line. I walked with a little skip in my step towards the bar, were Nancy was already leaning, trying to get a drink. I scanned the place while I walked up.

Nancy hadn't lied, the place was absolutely packed. It seemed like everyone in town had turned out to see the new establishment. But it was definitely more of a "grill" than "bar." There were about a dozen booths scattered around the dining room, every one of them packed. In the center of the room were more tables, mostly for two. All packed. There was a bar, on the far wall, but it was small. Maybe enough space for two bartenders, although three were back there now. Three bartenders swamped with people.

And, of course, they were people that I knew. As I had predicted, there wasn't a single stranger in this place. It was like a high school reunion mixed with a neighborhood block party. I heard a chorus of "hey Charli" as I fought my way through the crowd. I nodded or said hello to everyone. But with each repetition, I grew more and more convinced that this was not going to work out like Nancy expected. The only person Nancy would be having sex with was herself. Me too, for that matter. But honestly, I felt a little bit of relief at that.

"Hey, I am going to order you a beer," Nancy said when I finally managed to put my belly to the bar. I made a face.

"I want something sweet," I said. If I was going to get drunk with every person in town, I shouldn't have to fight a lager down my throat to do it. Nancy rolled her eyes.

"I don't get paid til next Friday. I am not buying you mixed drinks," she said, "If you want something other than Miller Lite, then you have to pay." I sighed and squeezed my elbow onto the bar, between Nancy and the cashier from the grocery store, lifted my fingers to signal to the bartender that I needed service.

I might as well have sent up a smoke signal. I mean, the bartenders were doing the best that they could. But they were clearly new to the job (not just this bar) and they were swamped. Alcohol was trickling out of the bar and there didn't seem to be any sort of system to how it was doled out. This is why new things are bad. About five minutes after I got there, Nancy got a beer and managed to extricate herself from the bar.

"Come find me when you get a drink," she said and then she began a (presumably fruitless) prowl of the bar, looking for someone new to town. I kept waiting as, slowly, the bar started to get itself out of the weeds. Finally, after like 15 minutes, I saw one bartender (he used to work at the gas station, Jim), sort of raised his eyebrows at me and started moving in my direction. I sighed with relief.

Just as Bartender Jim was closing the distance between us, and the taste of various juices mixed with a tiny amount of alcohol was just on my tongue, another elbow landed on the bar just in front of me, squeezing into the spot where Nancy had been.

"Hi, how can I help you?" Jim said, turning to this new asshole who had just showed up.

"What the fuck, Jim? I have been here an hour!" I said, "And who the hell do you think you are," I said to the new elbow. As I spoke, the possessor of the elbow turned and looked at me. And knocked all of the air out of lungs.

"I was just squeezing in where there was space, I am sorry," she said, but I couldn't really understand the words. This was not someone I recognized from town. And believe me, if she was from town, I would have recognized her. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman who had ever passed through our little burg.

She was a bit older than me, I think she was probably in her mid-thirties. She had long, straight blonde hair and impossibly big, green eyes. She had a small nose, and delicate white skin. She had big pouty pink lips and a long, thin throat. She had narrow shoulders and long, elegant arms. Her breasts were small and were pushed up high on her chest in her tight blouse. She had a trim build and I could see long, slim legs stretching down to the floor, exposed below a short skirt. I stared at her with my eyes open like a total dick.

"Yeah, I uh...no problem," I said.

"Tell you what," she turned quickly back to Jim, "I am picking up her drink. What do you want?" she asked, turning back to me. A drink? What did one even do with a drink? Drink it, probably. That would make sense. Nothing else did in that moment.

"Uh, just whatever you're having," I said and the woman shrugged.

"Two Miller Lites, I guess," the woman said and I laughed a bit to myself. Of course, "I already have a tab open. Under Sabrina. Just put it on that." She said and then turned back to me, "Hi, I am..."

"Sabrina," I said, not trying to be a jerk, just liking the name.

"You're a quick one," Sabrina said a bit sarcastically, but laughed good-naturedly.

"Charli," I said and then felt my cheeks get red. What the hell was I talking about?

"I take it that is your name?" Sabrina asked and my blush grew deeper.

"Yeah," I said, and Jim came over and dropped two beers down in front of us. Sabrina grabbed one and then held it up to me, expectantly. For a moment, I had no idea what she wanted. Suddenly, it dawned on me, "Oh, uh, yeah!" I said and then grabbed my beer, spilling a little, and then lifted it.

"Cheers," Sabrina said, and we clinked bottles. I took a deep drink (gross) and kept my eyes on Sabrina as she drank. Finally, she moved her glass from her lips. "Well, Charli, pleasure to meet you," Sabrina said, and she pushed back from the bar.

She was about to turn around and walk away. And she was going to leave. To my utter shock, I felt my heart sink. I mean, here was a new person who had intruded her way into my life by existing. That was, generally, a huge trigger for me. Even for good looking intruders. Bur for reasons I absolutely could not fathom, I wanted her to think well of me. At this rate, she was going to think I was a total psychopath or moron or something. I had to do something.

"Hey," I said, and Sabrina turned back to look at me. I didn't really have anything planned. I panicked, "You're really cute." I said and winced. Christ, Doug was smoother than me. I hadn't been prepared for any of this! No one new was supposed to be here! I wasn't supposed to be surprised by a pretty woman.

"Yeah, I am aware," Sabrina said, totally stone-faced. She stared at me for three or four excruciating second and then started laughing, "Okay, come one, I have my stuff set down on a table over here. You're lucky I like direct women." I worked! My...non-line had actually worked! I as going to try that more often! I stood up dumbly and started moving in Sabrina's direction.

"I am also fond of girls who can speak in sentences, so if that is going to be an issue for you, this might not last long," she said, as we started to wend our way through the tables.

"Okay," I said, trying to avoid patrons and not let Sabrina out of my sight.

"Not a great start on that," Sabrina laughed. I took a deep breath as we reached the table. She still thought I was cute, but I sensed that I would start to come off as real weird soon if I didn't get a hold of myself. I shook my head and cleared it.

"I promise, I talk real good. Much sentences," I said and Sabrina laughed again.

"Good," she said and she sat down, and gestured to the seat across from her. I sat down at the table and almost blushed again, just looking at her.

"Sorry," I said, finally, "I was really not expecting...This is a small town and...what're you doing here?" Sabrina grinned.

"Am I not allowed to be here?" She asked, leaning forward on the table (my eyes went to her cleavage. I am a boob girl, I will not be shamed for it!).

"To be honest with you, probably not," I said, looking around the bar, "We don't much like outsiders 'round here." Sabrina nodded.

"I recall that," she said, "Maybe they sense that I was born here." I turned my head to the side, looking at her more intently. No, still didn't look familiar.

"I feel like I would remember you being here," I said and Sabrina laughed.

"How old are you? Like 21?" she asked and I nodded, "I am a bit older than you. I left for college...Jesus, 18 years ago. You would have just been a kid."

"You don't look old enough to have gone to college 18 years ago," I said, not really flirting, just stating the truth. Sabrina spread her hand across her chest and sort of screwed up her eyes towards the ceiling.

"Oh aren't you sweet," she said, sort of like an old lady and we both laughed, "35 years old." She said. I always liked older woman. I mean, I hadn't realized it until now. But now, it was very clear, I had always liked older women. But I decided I had blurted out enough embarrassing stuff for one night.

"What brings you back?" I asked. What was this, anyway? Like, I was making conversation. But... I wanted to make conversation. Like I actually wanted to know things I didn't know about this stranger. That wasn't normal. Usually, I had to begrudgingly get to know someone until I was hoodwinked into liking them before I would dare ask a question of any kind. But this was different. I felt a sort of instant comfort with Sabrina that was almost unnerving in how not unnerving it was.

"The ancestral longing to return to this town, buy a Ford F-150 and join a multi-level marketing scheme was just too great. It's instinct," she said.

"Well, since you brought it up, while I still think your cute, I think you could be even cuter with some of the high end, exclusive Mary-Kay products that I have just outside in my car," I said, jerking my thumb towards the entrance. Sabrina laughed, a magical, musical sound. God I wanted to make her laugh a thousand times.

"At least the people here are more fun than they used to be," Sabrina said and I shook my head vehemently.

"You have found the one and only interesting person in this entire town. You should hang onto me with grim determination. Don't look at or speak to anyone else. I am you only chance," I said, looking around the room conspiratorially.

"Actually, that checks out with what I remember from this place. Glad you're here now," she said and my heart fluttered. Sabrina took a sip of beer and looked back at me, "But, to answer your earlier question, I got a teaching job at the community college over in Arnoldsville. It is actually cheaper to rent a place here and commute the 30 miles than it is to try to get a place over there. This is actually the cheapest place in the county, I think."

"Do renters not know that we now have a bar and grill?" I asked incredulously.

"No. And don't want word leaking out. This little hidden gem should remain hidden," she said.

"Well, I have to say, I wasn't expecting much when I came out here tonight, but it has been much more interesting than I expected."

"Same here," Sabrina say, biting her lip and grinning at me.

I can pretty much remember the rest of that night in vivid detail. I can remember we ordered food at some point (Sabrina got a burger and was insistent that there be no pickles, I got a chicken salad that tasted like it came from a gas station. I didn't mind). I remember her getting up to buy us another beer (Miller Lite isn't so bad, guys), and seeing her surprisingly round ass tick back and forth as she walked away.