A collection of one shots

I don't know where the hell to go with this story but here

Sitting at this old broken down bar reminded me of a lot of things. The beer was flat and told me a story of my father every time I took a sip of it. The girl on stage trying to sing karaoke sang songs that sounded a lot like the embarrassment from high school. The bar itself just reminded me of myself, sitting in this broken down body of mine. I know I've got more fight left in me but I have yet to find a way to teach it to resurface. In the mean time, I'll just be sitting on this old bar stool trying to ignore all the men who try to buy me a drink.

"So what's your poison?" breathes a 40 year old man who reeked of alcohol and a sad, sad life.

"I'll pass, thanks." I turn away from him and back to the stage where the girl is breathlessly trying to force out the high notes. The man orders himself a drink and sits down in the stool next to mine. He's facing the bar but only for a moment. He then turns his stool to face mine and tries again.

"Well at least tell me this, what's your name?"

"I'd rather not, thank you."

He picks up his drink with a smirk and takes a sip. Something tells me I shouldn't do the same. Turning away from my glass was probably a bad idea.

"Why are you trying to put up a fight," he places his hand on my leg, "Sweetheart?"

I stand up and walk a few steps in the opposite direction of him and have a seat. The man scoffs and walks off, most likely to find his new target. The bartender walks over to me. He's new here, I haven't seen him around. He's got brown hair and a tattoo on the side of his neck.

"Good move leaving your drink" He tells me. I nod once and start looking over the bottles to decide what to order next.  "On the house. And if it makes you feel any better, it doesn't really matter that you left your drink. I switched your glasses." He hands me a glass of Jameson and ginger, I look up at him and he's smiling. We both turn to look at the man and watch him slowly roofie himself.

"Thank you." I say.

"My pleasure. Guys like him deserve it. Well, they deserve much worse but I can only do so much." There's a silence for a moment and then he continues, "My names Travis. I just started working tonight."

"That's good," I tell him, "They need more guys like you here. I'm quite a regular so you'll probably be seeing my face around here a lot. My name's Lace. Short for Lacey because that just sounds too girly if you ask me."