William wasn’t a drunk but wasn't sober either. He walked down the street from his rundown, one-bedroom place to the bar. His jeans dragged, water soaking through his shoes, soaking his socks. He hated it. He loved the season, fall, but he hated the leaves.  He hated shoes, hated most things, but he liked the fall. He reached the bar and forgot the leaves and wet jeans.

“Hi, William. How are we today?”

“Hi, Lola. We’ll be a lot better once we have some vodka.”

She laughed and brought him a screwdriver. He loved the way she laughed and the shirt she was wearing revealing just enough cleavage to make him think about fucking her. He always wondered if she was shaved or if the drapes matched the carpet. She was a redhead. Not a cocky redhead, but the kind he wanted to fuck. Lola had bartended there six weeks.  He had been there five days of each of those six weeks after work. Today, he would make his move, he hoped. He stood in front of the mirror, practicing, before he came. He even did his hair.

Another screwdriver and he’d be ready to ask her. He sipped the fresh one slowly, trying to avoid finishing too quickly. The bar was slow so Lola stayed nearby William to talk. She looked distraught.

“Is there something wrong?”

She looked at the floor. Her hair fell in her face and she brushed it away.

“No, not really, I guess.”

William finished the last swig of his drink.

“Well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Her face lit up and she smiled.

“Really? What is it?”

She came closer and rested her elbows on the counter, pushing out her chest. Everyone could see that she did it purposely except for William. He picked at the scab on his arm nervously.

I can’t ask her, he thought. The phone rang. She sighed.

“Hold that thought, I have to get that.”

She hurried back over to William.  She touched his hand.

“What is it, William?”

He started to sweat. She looked so good.

“Uhm, yeah. The question was, uh, can I have another screwdriver?”

“Oh.” She scrunched her eyebrows. “Sure.”

She went to get him another drink. He watched her bend over to get the vodka. She brought it back over and dipped the tip of her finger in it and licked it off.

“Here you go. It’s good.” She licked her lips. “William, I really think you’re a great guy. Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you too.”

“I hope you’re not going to ask me if I need another drink, because you obviously just gave this one to me.”

She laughed. “You’re so funny.”

“HEY LADY!”

Lola looked towards where the new voice was coming from. A haggard old man in the corner motioned for her to come over. She rolled her eyes.

“Sorry.  I’ll be right back.”

William chugged the rest of his drink. Dammit, he thought. One more and I’ll definitely ask her. Lola came back, but by this time it looked like there were two of her. He wobbled in his chair.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Another screwdriver, please.”

Lola pushed out her bottom lip. “One more, then we have to close.”

“Okay, well, I really like your hair today. Did you do something new?”

“No, it’s the same as always.”

“Oh.”

William drank his last screwdriver and Lola shut off the lights.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“Okay.  What are you doing now?” Lola asked.

“Home.”

There was silence. William shuffled.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hope so.” She smiled.

William stumbled down the road back home. He still hated the sound of the crunchy leaves but he hated himself more. He groaned.

“Tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.”

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