Undead Love.

Randy's.

May 8th, 2011

 Dallas, Uptown.

 A small convenience store is closed for the night and inside all is dark and quiet but in the flat above the noise of people talking and laughing interrupts the otherwise silent street. A virtually empty gas station is quiet except for the gentle snoring of the employee sleeping behind the counter. In between the two a pub sits within a cluster of trees. The gravelled parking lot is lit up by the sign above the entrance which reads ‘Randy’s.’ A small fox darts past parked cars and heads for the safety offered by the darkness and trees.

 The interior of the pub is spacious and welcoming. Immediately to the right as you enter is the bar, a long, wooden counter that stretches from one wall to the other. A small swinging door allows the employees in and out from behind the bar. The bartender, a large, African American man with a bald head and a friendly face serves drinks to customers sat on stools or leant against the counter. To the left is the seating area. Booths starting half way down the wall and following the building round to make a semi circle of tables for a party of three or more. The seats are black leather and each dark, wooden table is giving extra light by a window directly above. In the space between the booths are small, round tables with two matching chairs.

 Directly ahead of the door is a corridor where the kitchen is visible. It is a small, white room and two men are rushing around, stirring pots or picking items from the freezer. The corridor turns right where the entrance to the kitchen can be found, the toilets and the owners office are also found there. At the very end of the corridor is the back door which leads to the trash cans and staff parking lot.

 A young waitress gives a drinks order to the bartender and stands back, waiting patiently. She is twenty five years old with long brunette hair that falls over her shoulders in delicate ringlets. Her deep brown eyes watch every movement behind the bar with interest. She is slim and the uniform she is required to wear compliments her well. The deep red T-shirt clings to her, showing her curves and the slight V-neck does not show too little or too much of her chest. The short black skirt hugs her thighs and ends just above her knees, showing off her tanned legs.

 The bartender brings two full pint glasses over to her and places them on a tray. “Thanks, Niall.” She says with a smile. She picks up the tray and walks towards a table near to the entrance, the small heels of her shoes making a distinctive clicking noise on the wooden floor with each step. Sat at this table is a large man with greying hair and an unruly beard. Tattoos cover his arms and disappear under his light blue shirt and his jeans are obviously too tight as his belt is undone. Sat with him is a slightly younger woman with greasy blonde hair, an eyebrow piercing and a menacing look on her face. Her buttoned shirt is far to revealing and her jeans cling unattractively to her all too skinny legs.

 “Here we are.” The young waitress places the drinks down in front of the couple and smiles politely. The seated woman replies with a rude grunt and scowls. “It’s about time, too.” She spits. The waitresses’ smile falters momentarily but she composes herself quickly. “I’m sorry.” She tucks the tray under her arm and gestures around the pub. “It’s quite busy tonight.”   

 “It was worth it.” The man says. She watches as he takes a sip from his beer but his gaze never leaves her, his eyes searching every part of her body. “I’m sorry?” She asks, shifting uncomfortably as the man leans back in his chair, moving his groan towards her.

 “The wait.” He explains. He wipes beer from his beard and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

 “Can I take your order?” She asks through gritted teeth.

 “Give me the Chicken burger. I want lettuce but no sauce and put a few chips on the side.” The woman orders whilst eyeing the man angrily. He smirks and straightens himself up in his chair. “Give me the same but bring some ketchup.”

 “Of course.” She smiles again but does not look them in the eye. As the waitress turns to take their order to the kitchen the man reaches out and grabs her skirt. She turns to object and to lash out but a tall figure steps in her way.

 She watches as her older brother uses one hand to pull the man’s hand behind his back and uses the other to push the man’s head down on to the table, spilling beer on the floor.

 “Apologise to my sister.” Her brother speaks calmly to the man. He throws a deliberately polite smile to the woman and speaks into the man’s ear. “Apologise, Charlie.” Charlie cries out in pain and grips the edge of the table. “No harm done, Randy.”

 Randy pulls Charlie’s arm further behind his back and whispers. “Not yet.”

 “Alright! I’m sorry! Sorry!” Her brother nods and releases Charlie.

 He stands to confront Randy but stops at the sight of Niall coming towards him. “Before ya’ll leave,” He rubs his palms together and stops in front of Charlie. “Tip your waitress.”

 “Why should he listen to you, Jackson?” The woman questions him.

 “Because, Beryl, he doesn’t want to upset me. Do you, Charlie?” Niall retorts.

 Charlie scowls but doesn’t argue. Niall towers above him and most other people and anyone who knows Niall should know better than to pick a fight with him. Beryl curses under her breath as she throws fifteen dollars on to the table. She pushes past Niall and Randy, dragging Charlie with her and just as the door closes Beryl’s cursing becomes louder.

 “Bitch!”

 The waitress snatches the money from the table and thrusts it into the front pocket of her shirt. “Thanks guys.” She sighs. “But I could have dealt with him myself.” She walks away towards the kitchen.

 “Alright people. Show’s over.” Randy exclaims as he realises all eyes in the pub were on him. He calls for another waitress to bring a mop and bucket. “Clean this up for me, will ya’, Carly?”

 “Sure thing.” She smiles up at him.

 “Jessica!” Niall calls after the waitress. She stops and lets him catch up to her.

 “You have let people look after you, girl.” He says, exasperated. She rolls her eyes and turns to pick up an order from the kitchen. “You should know by now, I like to feel independent.” She walks back to the tables, holding a plate in each hand.

 “Not being able to stop some nasty guy from taking advantage of you isn’t bad, Jess.” He talks over her shoulder as she places the plates in a booth for an elderly couple. She turns and places her hands on her hips and he watches her eyebrows scrunch up as she tries to think of something to say. Eventually she leans around him and nods towards the bar. “They look thirsty, don’t they?” And with that she walks away to another table.