Losing Control Feels Good

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."

"No mistake. You just looked like you could use another one."

"Awww how kind of you to think of me." She twirled her hair as she watched him move around behind the bar. "Got a bit busy I see?"

"It's nothing really. We get these little pops on summer nights. It'll die off in a few minutes and I'll come back and chit chat some more." He smiled at her before loading up a tray and moving off again.

The comment made her realize how obvious it was that she was enjoying his company. Well, you're not exactly playing hard to get now are you? She worked in a field where she was used to being in control; having to control really. She didn't choose the job by accident either. She generally liked having the upper hand, and it bothered her for just a moment that she hadn't been playing her cards a little closer to her chest. On the other hand, she appreciated that he knew she liked the attention and was still willing to give it to her.

It wasn't two minutes before she heard a table get up to go. Another one was a minute or two later, then another, and the regulars at the other end of the bar were right behind them. They said their goodbyes as her mysterious bartender friend was cleaning up the first table. She turned back to her phone, not wanting to get caught ogling him. She allowed herself to genuinely get distracted answering texts, but after reeling off a few responses she noticed that the general hustle and bustle noise of the restaurant had dimmed, and she could distinctly pick out what seemed to be two or three individual conversations. Just as she was tuning into the sounds of a proud but unfortunately naïve family sending their daughter off to college, a large slab of flaky redfish filet slid under her nose.

She somewhat haphazardly picked her elbows up off the bar and moved her beer aside, laughing as she looked down at the plate.

"Jesus, I wish I would've known it was that big!"

"Oh you'll be fine. I've got faith in you. Can I get you anything else?"

"No. I don't even know where I'd put it if you did."

"Well, I caught up on everything, so I will be literally right here if you need me."

She chuckled a bit, "I'm sure if you sit there long enough I'll find something for you to do. By the way, what's your name noble barkeep?"

"Sam. Yourself, Ms....umm...health maiden?"

"Never heard that one before." She laughed and gave a light smile, easing his awkward stumble. "I'm Camille."

"Well good to meet you Camille."

"And you as well barkeep Sam!"

Sam laughed at her energetic response and commitment to the bit. "Oh lord...Medieval occupational designations aside though, I genuinely do want to know more about the traveling nurse thing. I've got a friend that's about to go into it."

"Well, tell them they're about to make more money than they know what to do with."

"That was a pretty big part of her reasoning from what I know. Do you like it outside of that though? Because it seemed like it could get stressful with the hours and having to uproot every few weeks and all."

"Oh no, it's wonderful really. I mean, the hours are a lot, but you're making money and there's a lot of off time in between to do whatever, which is nice, as long as you're in a fun city. "

"Hmm, I never considered the other side of the traveling equation. What's the most Bum Fuck, Egypt place you've been stuck in?"

"Cadillac, Michigan." she replied without hesitation, as if the memories of it lived just under the surface of her mind.

"Lord...sounds like somewhere that happiness left when the industry did."

"Exactly! And not only was it boring, but also miserable." She paused and looked away, lost in thought. "And cold." She paused again. "And boring."

He laughed at her mannerisms and sadly reminiscing stare. "So why'd you go? I mean, isn't that the point of being a traveling nurse? You can go anywhere."

"See, that's where you're wrong. Much like yourself," she playfully booped her finger against his bicep, "the travel is just a bonus. The point was always the money. It was a good contract, and I worked it up to 86 hour weeks just to have something to do."

"Ooof," Sam exclaimed, almost as if he physically felt the number "86" hit him. "You couldn't pay me enough to be miserable."

"They paid me enough. Plus, there's no room for laziness in the medical field."

"Ehh, I wouldn't call it laziness. Just a priority issue. I value my free time, family....things like that, you know?"

"Right. No time for those either." She jokingly said in between bites of her meal. Sam laughed lightly and hinted at her beer, which had maybe a sip left. Her mouth full, she squinted at it, considering the tough decision before eventually giving a nod of approval.

He put another one in front of her before moving around the bar again. This time he dropped a few checks off, picked up some plates from the last two tables in the restaurant, and was back before there was even a break in the conversation.

"So there's no real drawbacks for you then?"

"Well, I mean," she blushed a little bit, which was uncommon territory for her. "Nah, never mind."

"Oh come on, what is that?"

She laughed, still blushing at him, but recomposing herself. "No, really it's nothing. It's a great job. No drawbacks at all."

He sensed her embarrassment and pushed the envelope further. "See now you've got me thinking there's some kinda weird nurse hazing thing. If there is, you've got to tell me! I'm asking for a friend remember?" He looked up at the table behind her, "I'll give you a minute to think about it," he said before walking away to grab their check.

As he picked up the check and ran their card, she saw the other table saying their thanks and walking out. Damn, they must have left cash. Sam dropped the closed check back off at the last table, and Camille realized she was maybe 5 minutes from being the only other person in the bar.

Sam returned, not even bothering to pick up the plates from the empty tables yet. "Alright, whatcha got? Lay it on me."

"Okay, so really it's nothing. Like, you're making way too big of a deal out of it," She said still laughing

"SO WHAT IS IT?" He asked, articulating every syllable.

"It's just...I mean...I get a little lonely sometimes."

Sam sighed. "That's it? I could have told you that. I just didn't think you cared too much."

"Well...I mean...maybe I over thought it. I just didn't want you to think I was some random thirsty ass girl coming in here, desperately looking for a man."

"Nah, I got more of a cougar vibe, but, like a young cougar, if there's such a thing."

Her hands went over her mouth as she tried to stop her embarrassment. "Oh my god...that's even worse!"

"I mean...I was enjoying it. Honestly I wouldn't think you'd spend too much time alone if you didn't want to." He paused, "outside of Cadillac, Michigan that is."

She gave a last chuckle and calmed down a little. "Well no, that's not a problem, but, you know, sometimes it'd be nice to have something a little more consistent. Maybe someone waiting for me when I get off everyday, or at least a travel buddy."

She almost questioned why the words were leaving her mouth as they came out. Vulnerability was not a strong suit of hers, but for some reason she found some comfort in his sarcasm and straightforward responses to her advances. "And honestly, I think I've got a lot to offer."

"So what's your sell?"

She smiled and perked up at the easy opportunity before leaning back and gesturing her hands down her body, as if to proudly present herself as her 'sell.'

He gave a good laugh at her response while also taking advantage of the free opportunity to look her over without risking the obvious break in eye contact. His face denoted a certain level of approval. "It's not a bad start."

"No I'm teasing. Seriously though I've thought this out a bit. So let's pretend you're my...umm...travel buddy." She made air quotes around the last phrase, hinting at the extra activities involved in the role. "You'd get to see the country with me. I make enough to pay our bills and treat us so you wouldn't have to worry about a job. Most of my contracts give me three days off every other week, so we can see the sights and spend time together when I'm off, and when I'm working you can just spend all your free time taking care of the apartment and getting more buff for me." She hinted at his muscular arms again. "So basically I do all the hard work and you just have the fun. Plus, you get all this personality."

He thought it over for a second, looking back at Camille as she anxiously awaited his thoughts. "Hmmm, it sounds fun for a little while, but I don't know how many guys would go for that for too long."

"WHAT GUY WOULDN'T WANT THAT!?" She came back in a strong but joking tone of voice.

"Well," he said giving her a 'prepare for sarcasm' look. "Apparently not too many so far."

She almost fell out of the chair laughing. She had become much more accustomed to men crafting answers so as to maximize their chances of sleeping with her that night, and the obvious lack of concern for that was delightfully refreshing. She also had a bad habit of taking herself a little too seriously, and it had been a while since she had a good laugh at her own expense.

"Well, honestly I haven't given too many men the pitch. I'm still in the market research phase. Consider yourself a focus group."

"Well as your focus group, I feel I must tell you that most of the men you'll find with that pitch are gonna be bums. But hey," he shrugged, "you might get a work-from-home guy....or even a future stay at home dad if you're into that kinda thing." He still had a light hearted and joking demeanor, but she could tell his answer was a little more genuine than the rest of his jabs.

She rolled her eyes, "None of that sounds appealing. I guess that makes sense though. My mom always told me," she paused mimicking an elderly woman voice, 'You gotta soften up if you wanna find a man Camille. Men want a woman to support em,' but I like being an independent woman. Plus it's hard to let a guy be the breadwinner when you make this much." She paused, squishing her lips to the side of her mouth like she did when she was really thinking something over. "I think I just need someone with a little less masculine ego."

"Oh come on. Get off your high horse." Sam said, still joking, but with the lightest tone of offense in his voice.

"What!?" she scoffed

"It's not some 'masculine ego' thing. People have dreams and goals. Things they work towards that they're proud of. That's not unique to men. That's just a human thing, and you're asking them to give that up and root their life in yours."