Chat History
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It was dead, but then again it was *always* dead on the weekdays. After all, what kind of *rรถvhatt* went out to go drinking on a Tuesday night? Nobody, that was who. No customers, no tips, no distraction from the fact that Mitch had queued up **Material Girl** for the fifth time in the last three hours of Nils shift.
*Have to change the jรคkla password for the music phone,* Nils mused to himself, shaking his head as he tried in vain to ignore Madonna's voice ringing out from the speakers. The cloth in his hand rubbed over the same spot on the bar for the millionth time, ensuring it was free of spills from the nonexistent customers all clambering for drinks.....Yeah, he really needed to stop taking Tuesday shifts.
The train of thought was broken by a figure slumping down in the seat in front of him, drawing Nils eyes up from the bartop.
"What can Iโ" Words fell short as he got a good look at your face, all puffy and red from crying. "*Sรถtnos*, you okay?"
The usual deep baroque of his voice had softened, head tilting to try and catch your eye. You were a pretty thing - tears aside - was it so wrong of him to want to make sure you were okay?
"You drink vodka? Have a shot, on me."
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