Bruce checked himself out in the mirror. Not a hair was out of place. His dark locks framed his well-upholstered face which glistened with oil and sweat.
“Beautiful.” He said, inviting his reflection to adore him.
Now to check out the chicky-babes.
He sauntered into the bar, groin first. Surveyed the room and spied his hapless victim.
Edna was sitting on her own, having a quiet Pims & lemonade before she went home to her Persian cat and the evening news.
She flinched when Bruce sat down too close beside her.
“Hello darlin’. How ya goin’?”
“Fine. Thank-you.” Edna turned away slightly.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“No. Thank-you. I’m about to leave.”
“Great! We can go somewhere and be alone then.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on. I saw you watching me as I came in. You want me.”
“I want you?”
“That’s what I said. It’s your lucky day! Tonight, I’m yours.”
“I want you to go away.” Edna’s voice was shaky with emotion.
“Playing hard to get, hey?” Bruce put his arm about her waist and pinched her ass.
“No. For your type, I’m playing impossible to get.” She looked around for the bartender. She was furious and scared and she needed him to get the bouncer.
“Hey, lady. I’m good in bed. You will enjoy the fuck. Tell all your friends about it later!”
Edna pushed his arm away and stood up. She thumped the bar.
“Bartender? Bartender! This man is annoying me.”
The bouncer – a big, burly Islander came up to Bruce and lifted him by the collar.
“Listen mate. It’s time for you to move on.”
“OK. OK. I’m going. I’m going.” Bruce deflated.
Edna looked at him with contempt.
“I’d rather have sex with John Howard, than you.”
She turned on her heel and left triumphantly.
Footnote: John Howard - ex prime-minister of Australia