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Chapter 6
Brad
What did the hurricane say to the coconut tree?
Hold on to your nuts, this ain’t no ordinary blowjob.
“Bradsterrrr!” my regular Jim shouts at me across the bar. The smell of beer wafts from him already, even if it’s only 3 p.m.
“Just the usual today, Jim?” I ask him, already pulling the pint glass from under the bar and filling it with his usual beer.
“Yeah, thanks,” he says as he hoists himself onto the bar stool. It's his favorite spot, so he’s in my direct line of sight.
“Does Brenda know you’re here? Or shall I expect an angry call around six when you aren’t home?”
Jim smiles sheepishly at me, his hand clasping around the cold pint glass I place in front of him.
He doesn’t need to answer, and I don’t mind. Brenda can be a bit of a ballbuster, taking the ball and chain reference literally, while Jim would happily spend every hour of his day in here.
He doesn’t even drink much; he talks and plays dominoes in the corner with his friends when they come in. He’s lonely, but I don’t mind his company while I wait for my other daily customers to trickle in.
“I’ll tell her you just left when she calls; I might buy you an extra hour before she calls again,” I tell him with a wink, throwing the polishing cloth over my shoulder.
I set into my usual routine, only pausing to keep Jim topped up while he talks my ear off about the latest happenings around here.
I don’t pay much attention since he usually talks a lot of shit that’s not needed, but my ears perk up when a particular rainbow-haired unicorn is mentioned.
“What was that?” I ask him, gracing him with my full attention.
“What was what?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Jim, or I’ll phone Brenda and tell her exactly where you are,” I threaten, but the twinkle in his eye gives him away.
The old bastard is fucking with me. It’s no secret to my regulars how obsessed I am with the unicorn.
Yes, the unicorn, she’s so far out of my league that it hurts.
I’m Brad… The Bradster.
She was the first girl who walked into my bar and didn’t even look my way. When I tried to talk to her, she scoffed at me and then walked away.
She walked away… from me.
I was stumped, and I couldn’t believe it.
Ever since, I’ve been obsessed, listening out for even the slightest news about her and seeking her out when she comes here with that friend of hers. Jade, I think?
“Well Jeannie… Mrs. Donovan overheard her and that gothy friend of hers talking about a dating thingy, majig,” he tells me, tapping his wrinkled fingers against the glass.
“A dating app?”
“That’s the thing. They are both on it, and the gothy one keeps talking about pogo sticks and slips and slides, so it must be some carnival thing.”
I don’t even have a response; all I can do is sigh in exasperation at the older man as I move on to refill the barrels in the basement.
If it’s what I think it is, I signed up for the app myself, hoping to find a date. I was sick of the meaningless hookups, but my first date was awful, and I haven’t looked at the app since.
But if the unicorn is on it, maybe I’ll get lucky enough that whatever voodoo magic matches people works in my favor and gives me a chance with her.
