Linnea's Bar

Linnea walked through her tiny, slightly dingy bar and wiped down all the countertops. Her rag was only damp, so as not to soak the dark wood. It also allowed her to walk on without drying the surface. As she moved through the room, she looked at the different faces, each a slightly different shade of green. Many had several piercings in their long, pointed ears. It seemed to be the new fashion. Linnea didn’t like pain enough to get more than two piercings. Still, she had to respect those who were capable of getting more. It made them look a little more resilient in her eyes.

With a sigh, she returned to her place behind the counter as she tossed the rag upon her shoulder. Lifting a glass, she looked into its depths and pulled the rag once more to wipe it out. As she did this someone approached the bar and cleared their throat.

“That’s not very appetizing, you know,” the voice made her grin and she looked up to find an older male, his dark hair going gray at the temples. He was watching her, his blue eyes never leaving the dirty glass and she laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to give you one that was wiped out with a clean rag,” Linnea turned and pulled a fresh glass from the shelf along the wall beneath the mirror.

With a shake of his head, the man took his seat and watched as she filled it with amber liquid. He was the only customer who ever wanted this particular drink.

“Better?” Linnea asked, leaning on the bar and watching him as he drank.

Swallowing hard, he nods and says, “Much. The fields are proving difficult this year.”

Fields, meaning plowing. It was spring again and it was time anyone who had to work the fields to do it. He was no exception, but even at his advanced age she could tell he was in perfect condition. The hours upon hours behind a plow have given him a physique that she could certainly appreciate. It was too bad he saw her more as a daughter or little sister than as a prospective mate. Her mind wasted no time in imagining how it would feel to run her fingers through his thick, dark hair or how his body would feel without those clothes on.

“How’s business?” he asks, though his eyes sparkle as though he knows precisely what she was thinking and she finds herself blushing.

“It’s been better. Though, now that everyone’s in the fields all day, it’ll pick up come night fall,” Linnea states and, as if to prove this statement true, a group of grungy males enters the bar and begins to take their seats.

Waitresses file out of the break area and begin to take orders, avoiding lecherous hands and playfully reminding the males who owned them that this was a ‘no touch’ business. Most of the males looked at her hatefully and she simply smiled back at them. The females who worked for her were entitled to being treated like intelligent creatures, not pieces of meat at the market.

“They all hate to love you,” the male before her stated and Linnea laughed.

“I know… if there was another bar in this town, I’d be out of business in a night,” Linnea joked.

“Maybe not,” the male stated, indicated the younger crowd. The ones with the multiple piercings in their ears. One even had a few in his face, giving Linnea the willies.

“True, but they don’t have much coinage to throw around,” Linnea pointed out. Most were simply sitting and chatting with their friends.

“I don’t know, you may be surprised if you actually enforced that one drink minimum the way you do the no touching of the waitresses policy,” the male said.

Linnea looked at him thoughtfully and shrugged, “I will if I ever have to. For now, the plowers and sowers make up for the money I lose while allowing these kids to stick around.”

The male nods, “That’s why I like you, Linnea, you always offer something good in exchange.”

Grinning, Linnea stands to her full height, catching the coins he tosses her way before standing, “Have a good day, Thom.”

“A good night, my dear,” Thom corrects her as he turns to leave, “My day starts far too early for this to be a day to me.”

As he walks out, she waits and holds the coins in her palm, moving them about slightly. The clinking was almost musical. Then she is snapped out of her thoughts as a shout rings out and she looks up to find a grubby male pawing at one of the waitresses, a female barely out of her adolescence. New to the bar and unable to understand what was happening to her. Without a single reservation, Linnea reaches behind the bar and pulls out the length of wood containing two nails before going around the edge and approaching the scene.

There was a reason why the other males were looking at the one holding her waitress with terror on their faces.