Book A Bartender Novels & Stories

I don't want to remember the splashing of blood and Bianca's cries. Just then a bartender pass by. Well, since I'm in a bar, I might as well get myself drunk and get crazy for tonight, maybe it'll help me forget that horrible scene.....that terrifying scene. "Excuse me" I call on the bartender. "Yes" "Serve me your strongest drink here" "Ok, give me a minute" he leaves. I look around, the people here are happy. They're drinking and dancing with no care of what's happening around them, I want to get that feeling tonight....

I smiled at two girls maybe a few years older than me walking hand in hand as I walked further into the garden admiring the decorations and flower arrangments on tables. There’s a bar set up at one end so I make for it. Sliding into a stool. I bring my brown purse to rest on my lap. “Hello, what can I get you?” The bartender is a young man of Asian descent. His hair was slicked and a red bow tie at his throat. He wiped at the already shiny bar top with a towel tossed it over his shoulder and smiled. “An apple martini please, thank you” It was just noon, a little early to be drinking but this was a party right? what would one drink do? I was nervous, I'd never been to one of these by myself a

Navigating his way through the bustling crowd, he finally reached the polished mahogany bar counter, where the bartender skillfully crafted an array of drinks. The bartender's attentive eyes met his as he approached, swiftly assessing his distinguished appearance with a single glance. "What can I get for you, sir?" the bartender inquired, his voice exuding a refined professionalism. Reynold paused for a moment, contemplating his preference before responding. He yearned for something potent, a libation that would envelop him in a comforting warmth from within. Leaning casually against the counter, his gaze wandered over the impressive collection of liquor bottles, proudly displayed against th

He settled onto a stool at the sleek marble bar, seeking comfort in the sophistication that surrounded him. Noah watched as the skilled mixologists artfully crafted cocktails that danced with vibrant colors and intoxicating aromas. He ordered a concoction that promised a tantalizing blend of flavors, hoping it would help numb the ache in his heart. The bartender's expert hands gracefully prepared the drink, infusing it with a touch of magic and care. With each sip, he savored the complex layers, momentarily finding respite from the storm within.

What did I even expect? But whatever. I talked to the bartender. "Excuse me, give me the strongest drink here" I ordered while my hand resting on my cheeks The bartender looked surprised “Are you sure, miss? Sounds like you’ve got something on your mind,” the bartender chuckled. "Nah, just freshi'n up" I laughed bitterly "Hmm, maybe I'll offer you. Old Fashioned, Negroni, Manhattan, Dirty Martini, Long Island Iced Tea." "Dirty Martini, Extra Dirty" I responded

Badly. I made my way toward the ornate bar, a shimmering piece of art in the middle of the grand room, all glass and gold accents with an air of exclusivity. The bartender was tall, handsome, with sleeves rolled up to show tattooed forearms. He caught my eye the moment I approached. "Good evening, miss," he said, flashing a professional smile. "What'll it be?" I slid the black card across the counter, making sure my fingers brushed the glossy surface like I belonged here. Like this wasn't my first time. "Vodka martini," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Make it dirty."

Is it just me or is this place filled with handsome men? The bartender greeted me with a charming grin. “What can I get for you?” “Something strong enough to make me enjoy the night without burning my tongue,” I replied, trying to sound casual. He laughed, clearly entertained. “I’ve got just the thing. Try my signature cocktail, I call it the ‘Lunar Bliss.’” “Sounds fancy. Gimme that.” “Coming right up, milady!” He winked at me and proceeded to whip his special cocktail. He spun the shaker with smooth, practiced movements, his hands a blur of motion. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in awe as I watched his bartending skills.

It's asking for trouble. But tonight, I don't care. Tonight, trouble feels like a destination. I slide onto a stool at the far end of the bar, away from the other patrons. The bartender is a Beta woman with gray-streaked hair and tattooed arms. She looks at me, looks at my neck—checking for a claiming bite, checking for signs of designation—and then looks away. "What'll it be?" "Whiskey. Whatever's cheapest." She pours. The glass slides across the bar. I catch it, lift it to my lips, and let the liquid burn its way down my throat.

Who won’t? “Pretty lady...” the bartender smirks, his lips curling up flirty as he pushes the drink, “today’s special is called ladies killer,” he says, “drink slowly,” he winks, before turning to attend to another customer. Well... I can do a quickie with him, he is cute and handsome in his own way! I bite my lips sensually, my eyes on the bartender, gawking at how he was mixing the liquor together efficiently. I open my mouth to send him an inviting remark before I am interrupted by the screeching sound of the seat beside me being dragged. I instantly wipe my head to look at the intruder and my mouth opens a gap.

I said, dragging a stool and sitting next to her. There was a bartender that that was always ready to serve at my bar room so the simple press of a button that had been placed at the side at the counter came rushing in barely seconds later. I told him to call me my usual but to make it a bit stronger tonight. "Alright sir…" then he asked me. "Will..the lady be taking anything?" I looked at her and then scoffed. "Maybe I would have offered you something but unfortunately we don't have juice in this place…"