Zombish's blog: "Ramlings of boredom"

      She sat there, perched up on that worn out bar stool, her beer making a ring shaped pool on the tired wood of the bar top.  Black lined eyes searching for the bartender to bring her another pint of that delicious golden brew.  "Rock Goddess" he had called her.  She laughed at the nickname everytime she heard it.

      Rock Goddes... if that were true, shouldn't she be with a "Rockstar" at this bar?  If that were true, shouldn't she be smiling and laughing with her friends at this bar?  If that were true, shouldn't she feel something other than pure disappointment at this bar?

      She laughed to herself again before the bartender saw that her pint was dry.  He brought anothr at her signal, which usually just consised of a two finger salute, but tonight she merely bowed her head, and he knew.  Bartenders... Mind readers with a license to drown it away with spirits and brew.  Amazing.

      Black tipped nails traced the lip of the pint glass before bringing that sweet nectar to cherry glistened lips.  Her studded spike heel clanked against the metal footrest of her stool, in rythym to the Motley Crue song that danced out of the tired speakers of the radio.  "It's the same old, same old situation".  How convenient.  She bared her teeth at the lyric before taking another swig of that frosty beer.

      She got a few glances from the table of middle aged men conveniently positioned near her, to the right.  At 25 years old, she was old enough to be their daughter, and they were eyeing her like she was a steak.  Green eyes rolled in obvious annoyance when she was asked where her other tattoos and piercings were hiding.  Blatant ignorance at the question sent the nearly bald, biker styled guy back ot his table of neanderthals, who were uproared in laughter.

      Was she always attracting this kind of attention?  Yes.  Purposely?  No, but apparently, she looked like the type to have an affair with, or the trophy on some old mans' arm.

      She sighed loud enough for the bartender to hear it, before finishing her beer.  Her gestured two finger salute promised her another pint, she smiled at the bartender as he placed the frosty mug in front of her.  Did she really look the type to be hanging on a middle aged mans arm?

      She gazed down her form.  She was curvy. Not big, but not small either.  Complete hourglass figure, sure she could do some work, but it wasn't necessary.  Jet black hair fell in numerous layers, just below her shoulders, styled wild and big, pieces stuck out everywhere... daring hair, bold hair, her hair.  Her eyes were always painted up in something dark, but unique.  Always lined in jet black eyeliner, it made the crystal green of her iris stand out boldly.  Cherry flavored and shiny gloss was her kiss of choice, she rarely went without it.  She draped herself in a black tank, complete with skulls plastered in glitter and sequence.  That tank showed off 4 of her 6 tattoos.  Skinny jeans clung to her legs, fancied with holes in the denim, and patches on the ass pockets.  Black studded spike heels dangled from her feet.  And yes, manicured toe nails were also dressed up in black polish.  Layered chains decorated her neck, and a single skull necklace that glittered with fake diamonds.  Rings on nearly every finger, along with bracelets for both wrists, almost covering the other 2 tattoos.  A diamond stud glittered her upper lip, nose, and eyebrow.  That was her.  "Rock Goddess".

      She laughed a little at the pet name again.  Although the bartender admitted to adoring the look of her, he found her intimidating.  He'd said it.  Maybe that was her problem.  Men her age found her intimidating.  But, would she really want the attention of someone who thought her intimidating?  Probably not.  Where was the fun there?

      She brought a cigarette to her black painted finger tips, while fumbling for her lighter.  She set both on the bar top before finishing her final beer.  She placed a more than generous tip on the counter for the barkeep.  Grasping the cigarette between those cherry glistened lips, and gave the bartender a wink and a wave on her way towards the exit.  She lit her cigarette, and the flame danced in her emerald hues.  Crossing her arms and leaning against he rough brick of the building, she took another drag of that sweet nicotine addiction.

      She smiled and whispered, "Rock goddess...", while shaking her head.  She stubbed out her cigarette, and glanced toward the night sky.  She headed toward her car, unlocked it, and sat down.  A smile crossed her lips as she started the engine.  She wasn't going home, she was making her leave for another life.

8-19-2010