A girl walks into a bar. She walks into my bar. That's how the story goes.
I was sitting at the bar, drinking beer and reading when she came in. She sat on the stool next to me. I looked up from my book for a second to find two big, brown eyes staring back at me. She smiled and bit her lip.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" The girl stayed silent and her brow furrowed. "Pleasure of your company I mean."
"I just needed a drink, fine sir." The bartender brought scotch for the lady and she took a long sip, "What are you reading?"
"Oh, The Big Sleep, by Raymond Chandler. Rereading it actually."
"So you come to the bar to read?" She said. "In the afternoon no less."
The girls continued to sip on her scotch and look at me while I plotted and answer, "Well, my job, it's flexible. And I don't think reading in a bar is that weird."
"I wouldn't know. I don't read much. What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a writer. Published one at that, I said.
She grinned, "Anything I might have read from you?"
She burst into laughter, "That was very touche, mister writer."
"Allow me to make it up to you. I'm looking for a muse. You fit the description rather well."
"Oh really? And what would I have to do?" She asked.
"Well you'd have to have sex with me probably, at least once, or just something romantic, then you should break my heart. Sound as good work?"
"I'm not sure," She said. "You'll later write about it. I'm not sure I could be a bad guy."
Her glass was empty now and I saw a chance, "What do you say we continue this somewhere else? Go for a walk? Or something?"
"Sorry. I don't think so. I'm not cut out to be a muse."
The bartender came and I paid my bill, "Can I at least know your name?" She nodded away playfully. "Guess I'll just have to remember you as a single-serving muse."
She leaned over, "You totally stole that from Fight Club." She whispered into my ear.
"So you do read?"
"I watched the movie. Brad Pitt is gorgeous."
I got up from the stool and scribbled my phone number on a piece of paper; slid it under her glass.
"Well, if you ever decide to be more than a single-serving muse, give me a call. Oh, and also we do agree, Brad Pitt is gorgeous." She chuckled blew me a kiss. I walked out into the afternoon sun and immediately regretted not drinking another drink, but it was time to do some work. I started walking towards my house, a story already in the making.