10
A Bar Song (Tipsy) - Shaboozey
“ C heers to surviving another week!” Kristie exclaims, raising her glass. We all clink our glasses together, the sound ringing out over the din of the pub.
Jamie laughs, taking a sip of her drink. “Seriously, those kids are adorable, but they sure know how to wear you out.”
Stella nods in agreement. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for Friday night drinks.”
Amanda, the oldest of our group, chuckles. “You young ones have no idea. Wait until you hit my age.” We all laugh, the sound blending with the lively atmosphere of the pub.
The Loose Lasso is alive with energy, and I can’t help but soak it all in, a wide grin spreading across my face. The scent of alcohol and fried delights fill the air, adding to the excitement of the evening. Seated beside me are Kristie, with her infectious laughter and vibrant spirit, Jamie, always impeccably dressed and ready for a good time, Stella, whose witty sarcasm keeps us entertained, and Amanda, whose nurturing presence brings a sense of calm to our group.
We’ve been colleagues for the past three years, ever since I started teaching. It’s been quite the journey together. Stella might be the newbie, but she fits in like glitter on a craft project, her vibrant personality blending effortlessly with ours. Most of the other staff at Koala Creek Primary are like wise old owls, full of years of teaching wisdom. But with this crew, age is just a number, and we’ve formed a bond that’s more like a wacky, loving family than mere colleagues.
As I glance at the drinks scattered across the table—some empty, some still full—I realise I’ve already had my fourth drink. Or is it my third? Well, who’s counting, anyway?
Trying to keep track of how many drinks I’ve had is like trying to keep track of how many times little Timmy asked to go to the bathroom today. Impossible!
Working with kindergarteners is undeniably adorable and fulfilling, but let’s be real, being around five- and six-year-olds all day, every day, can be mentally and physically exhausting.
And that’s putting it lightly.
As we chat and laugh, my body starts to hum with that familiar buzz from the alcohol, and I welcome it with a contented sigh.
“So, any plans for the weekend, Amelia?” Kristie asks, leaning in with a smile.
I take a sip of my drink, considering her question. “Well, I was thinking of catching up on some reading. Maybe finally finish that book I started last month.”
Jamie raises an eyebrow teasingly. “You mean the one you started and never got past the first chapter?”
I laugh and nod. “Yep, that’s the one. I really should finish it. ”
But truth be told, the reason I haven’t finished it is because it’s just so damn raunchy, I’ve had to pause before getting too flustered.
Amanda adds, “Oh, the one full of cowboys and some steamy sex scenes? Don’t forget your vibrator while reading.” This earns a laugh from the girls, but I can feel my face heating up, blushing hard at the mention.
“Amanda!” I admonish, feeling my cheeks burn.
“What? If you’re reading that cowboy or fairy porn, you gotta have some form of relief, right?” Amanda quips.
I smack my forehead, the girls’ giggles filling the space between us. “How do you even know all of this?” I ask.
“Honey, I may be ancient, but I’ve read my fair share of romance novels over the years. I’ll have you know, my sex life is still quite lively thanks to those books, and Gerry never complains, so...” Amanda’s words trail off with a mischievous grin.
“Oh, my god! I don’t think we need to know that,” I exclaim out loud.
Jamie chimes in with a laugh, “You dirty woman, you! Don’t mind her, she’s a little prude.” I gasp in disbelief, smacking Jamie on the arm.
“What? Hun, do you even own a vibrator?” she questions with a raised brow.
I feign embarrassment, but I can’t help but wonder. I’ve never owned a vibrator before, never had the urge to buy one. Do I need one? Is that what girls these days have?
Jamie notices the look on my face, and hers lights up. “Oh, my god! You don’t have one?” she says in disbelief. “We’re gonna have to change that. I’m going to order you a few of my favourites.”
Oh, kill me now.
“No, that’s okay.” I say, blushing.
Kristie then puts her hand up. “No, no. We’re getting you one or two alright,” she says with a wink.
How did this conversation go from talking about work to sex and vibrators? Good lord.
I lift my glass to take a big gulp of my drink to ease these rampant thoughts, but as I do, Amanda exclaims, “Fuck the vibrators. We need to find her a man,” and the contents of my drink are spit out as I choke on the liquid.
Jamie makes a tsk sound. “Look what you did now! Made her choke on her drink. ”
“It’s not her drink she should be choking on,” Amanda adds, throwing in an exaggerated wink.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. The girls burst out in a raucous laughter.
Jamie chimes in, turning to Amanda, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing you swear.”
“What?!” Amanda shrieks. “I swear all the time, clearly.” The girls burst into more laughter, and I can’t help but join in. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she adds for good measure. “There ya go! How’s that for swearing?” This earns even more laughter from the girls.
Amanda then turns to me, holding her thumb out. “This one never swears! I think we need to loosen her up a bit.”
Jamie then adds, “In more ways than one, apparently.”
“Remember that time you stubbed your toe at work and yelled, ‘Oh, fiddlesticks!’?” Kristie says, trying to hold back her laughter.
“And what about the time you dropped your lunch and yelled, ‘Holy guacamole!’?” Jamie adds, giggling.
“Oh, wait! What was that word you said the other day, ‘Son of a what?’”
“Biscuit,” I finish for Kristie, with a roll of my eyes.
Stella chimes in, “Yeah, that phrase should be ‘Son of a bitch!’”
“Hey, they work just as well! Why do I need to swear?”
Amanda chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, Amelia, dear, you’re too pure for this world.”
Stella leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think we need to give you a crash course in swearing. Lesson one: the art of the word ‘fuck’. It’s so versatile.”
“ And ‘Cunt’,” Jamie adds casually.
“Oh, that one’s my favourite!” Amanda joins in.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that lesson, thanks.”
“At least tell us you’ve seen a real dick before?” Kristie asks, her tone teasing.
Oh my. I instantly feel those tummy flutters, images of Bradley from yesterday in the shower flashing through my mind. “Th-that’s none of your business, thank you very much.”
“Hold the fuck up! She’s blushing!! You have! She has!” Jamie exclaims, her excitement palpable.
“Amelia Brown, you better not have seen a dick and not have told us!” Kristie adds, her voice a little too loud for my liking as she scans the surroundings to make sure no one heard.
I can’t help but think that she really needs to work on her no-filter mouth. Sometimes, I swear she forgets we’re in public.
“Shush, would you? My goodness!” I exclaim.
“You better tell us right now. Please and thank you!” Stella insists, her words making me wish for another drink.
As if on cue, one of the bartenders comes round to collect our empty cups. I take this opportunity to order another round of drinks, asking for mine to be a double shot.
“Oh, she’s sure as hell seen one alright. Asking for double shots ‘n all,” Amanda chirps, earning laughter from the group.
“Well…” Kristie says, waiting for me to answer. I hesitate, feeling the weight of their expectant gazes.
I feel my cheeks flush as their expectant eyes bore into me. “Um, yes! I have. There, happy?” I try to muster confidence, but I’m already second-guessing my response.
“When? Where?” Kristie’s curiosity spikes, leaning in with a grin.
“The other day, on my laptop,” I state matter-of-factly, hoping to steer away from the real details. Lies.
“Oh no, no, no. We don’t mean porn, hunny,” Jamie chastises, her tone playful. “Kristie meant in real life, up close and personal. Veins and all.”
My mind involuntarily drifts to Bradley and his very, very large member, and I feel myself growing increasingly flustered.
“It’s okay. You can tell us.” Jamie nudges me, eager for details.
Kristie chirps in, “Yeah! Remember that time I told you about that guy Ben and how he had a monster schlong.”
I can’t help but snort. “Yeah, information that YOU willingly shared. I didn’t pester you about it.”
“Same shit, different smell,” she fires back with a smile.
I squirm, feeling like I’ve dug myself into a hole.
“Well, it was the other day at Liv’s house,” I begin reluctantly. “I went to pick something up, and I may or may not have stumbled upon her brother, Bradley… in the shower.”
The girls erupt into giggles and exclamations. “You walked in on him?”
“No, no. He left the bloody door open!” I exclaim. “I mean, who does that?”
Jamie squeals with excitement. “Was he all soapy and steamy?”
“Um, yeah,” I stammer, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.
“Oh, my!” Stella exclaims amidst laughter. “Damn, girl!”
“Was it big?!” Amanda blurts out.
I swallow nervously, feeling their expectant stares. “I-I don’t know, I didn’t exactly look,” I lie, feeling my face heat up even more. I did look. And I definitely noticed.
Jamie probes further, “So, who is this mysterious Bradley to you?”
“Just Liv’s older brother,” I say, awkwardly.
“Hold on. Olivia, your best friend? As in Olivia Mitchell? So Bradley Mitchell… the town’s finest police officer?” Amanda chimes in.
The girls gasp in unison. “What? ”
Stella leans in with wide eyes. “So, the hottest police officer in town, and you saw him naked? You lucky girl!”
I snort, shaking my head. “It’s not like that. He’s just Liv’s brother. I’ve known him forever.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say,” Jamie teases.
“Did he... you know, see you?” Stella asks.
I bury my face in my hands, mortified by the whole situation. “Yes! Can we please change the subject now?” I plead, my voice muffled by my hands—hoping to move on from this embarrassing topic.
“Oh, my god! This is amazing,” Kristie exclaims.
“No, it’s mortifying! I don’t think I can ever look at him again, without, you know, picturing his…” My voice trails off into silence.
“His dick?” Amanda finishes for me bluntly.
“His cock?” Jamie and Kristie chime in simultaneously.
“You can say the word. It’s okay. Around us, there’s no need to be shy, girl,” Jamie croons, trying to lighten the mood.
I chuckle nervously. “Thanks, Jamie, but I think I’ll pass on embracing my inner sailor just yet.”
Their laughter fills the air, and I can’t help but join in, despite my embarrassment. Oh, the joys of having friends who don’t let you live down your awkward moments.
I love these girls, but sometimes they just have no filter or any inkling of when to stop.
After the awkward conversation about Bradley Mitchell fizzles out, we decide to move on and order another round of drinks. As the night progresses, the drinks flow freely, and soon enough, my head is buzzing, my words slurring just like the rest of the girls.
With each round of drinks, the atmosphere becomes more relaxed and carefree. My cheeks hurt from laughing so much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Eventually, we find ourselves on the crowded dance floor, the lively beat of “A Bar Song” filling the air. The girls are dancing, twirling each other around, laughing as we move to the music. Stella’s red hair is a blur as she spins, Jamie’s laughter infectious as she attempts some fancy footwork. Kristie and Amanda are in their own world, lost in the music and the moment.
I join in, letting loose and dancing like nobody’s watching. The alcohol has given me a newfound confidence, and I twirl and sway with the music, my worries melting away with each step. The girls cheer me on, and I can’t help but grin from ear to ear.
“I needa go to the bathroom!” I call out to the girls over the blaring music, my words slightly slurred.
Jamie, being the caring friend she is, asks, “Want me to go with you?”
I shake my head, insisting, “Nah, I’ll be right. Just need to pee!” Navigating my way through the crowded bar, I stumble slightly, catching myself on a nearby table.
“Whoops,” I mutter under my breath, earning a few amused glances from nearby patrons.
Finally reaching the bathroom, I take a moment to appreciate the brief silence before the door swings open, revealing a line of equally tipsy women waiting their turn. It reeks of women’s perfume and alcohol. Surprisingly, for a small town country pub, this place is actually pretty clean.
I make my way to the toilet and do my business, then move to the sink to wash my hands. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I notice my once tightly wound curls have morphed into soft waves cascading over my shoulder. I freshen up my hair, run my fingers through the strands, and wipe the small beads of sweat forming on my forehead.
Before rejoining the girls, I decide to make a short trip back to the bar to order another drink. I’m feeling a little parched, and well, why not? More alcohol probably isn’t the best idea, but who cares? It’s Friday night, and I have no other plans for tomorrow other than to sleep in.
Might as well seize the moment.
Squeezing myself between people to get to the bar, I miraculously find a vacant spot. Leaning against the counter, I ponder what to drink next. The bartender, an older guy but very good-looking, catches my eye. He has dark hair and a short, trimmed beard, and his name tag reads Joshua.
I blink at him, suddenly feeling a flutter in my stomach.
“What can I get you?” Joshua asks, flashing me a charming smile.
I shy away at his flirtatious tone. “Uh… um, just a vodka sunrise, thanks.”
“Long day?” he asks, pouring the drink.
“Long week, more like it,” I mumble, avoiding his gaze.
He whisks up my drink in no time and hands me the glass. “Here you go. Need anythin’ else? ”
I glance back at the girls, who are laughing and dancing, and a mischievous idea pops into my head. “Actually, yeah. Can I get a round of vodka shots for my friends?” My voice is a little louder than before, the alcohol giving me a newfound confidence.
As Joshua goes to pour the shots, a group of guys come barreling to the bar, glasses and beers in hand. One of them spots me, and our eyes meet. I immediately avert my gaze, but it seems I’ve caught his attention. He moves closer to me, leaning in.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing at the bar all alone?” he asks, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol.
I feel a pang of discomfort and quickly hide my face, pretending to be engrossed in my drink.
“Oh, um, just waiting for my friends,” I mumble, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me alone. Confidence? Yeah, that went out the window.
Despite my attempt to brush him off, the guy doesn’t seem deterred. He leans in even closer, his breath smelling strongly of alcohol.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m ‘ere now,” he says with a smirk, his words oozing with confidence.
I squirm uncomfortably, feeling trapped under his intense gaze. “That’s... nice,” I manage to say, my voice trembling slightly.
He reaches out to touch my arm, and I instinctively pull away, my discomfort growing by the second. “Hey, no need to be shy,” he says, his tone becoming more insistent. “Wanna dance?”
I glance nervously at Joshua behind the bar, hoping he’ll notice my discomfort, but he seems preoccupied with serving other customers. Panic begins rising within me as I search for an escape route.
Feeling stuck and unable to abandon the drinks at the bar, I realise I can’t carry them all by myself.
Great, I didn’t think this through.
“No, I’m good. Th-thanks,” I manage to stutter out. Desperate for an escape, I pull out my phone and quickly send a message to Kristie.
I type quickly, followed by another message.
The guy continues, however, “Come on, darl, don’t be like that. Come dance.” His accent is thick, and I can tell he’s had one too many.
In that moment, a deep voice from behind me raises the hairs along my arms, and my spine stiffens. “She said no. Take the hint, mate.”
The word ‘mate’ is laced with a warning, devoid of any friendliness. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, even blindfolded.
Bradley.
My heart skips a beat as I turn around. There he stands, towering over the guy who’s been pestering me. Bradley’s expression is hard, jaw clenched in a way that means business.
The guy, surprised by Bradley’s sudden appearance, stammers, “Relax, mate, I was just…”
Bradley cuts him off with a sharp glare. “She said no. Now, fuck off.”
The guy mutters an apology and scurries away, swallowed by the crowd. Bradley turns to me, his gaze softening.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle.
I nod, feeling a rush of relief wash over me. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
As I look into Bradley’s eyes, so full of concern and strength, I can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. It’s probably just a coincidence that he’s here at the right time again, but still, in his presence, I feel safe, protected. I take in his appearance—dark cargo pants, combat boots, and a black hoodie—I can’t help but feel a flutter in my chest. He must’ve come straight from work. My face heats up, and I try to subtly hide my blush, hoping he doesn’t notice my sudden change.
I feel all flustered and warm, and it’s definitely not from the alcohol.