America 1982-Chapter 409 - 51: Three Old Guys_5
This was not the kind of town affluent people would choose as a prime living location. What kind of fancy club could possibly open in a place like this?
"This is the spot!" Colin pointed at a black iron gate covered in rust and with a sense of age: "Hurry up~" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖
Julian looked up to see an ironwork sign hanging above the door, Milk Room.
"This name doesn’t sound like... the kind of place I imagined would suit my taste," Julian said suspiciously as he was led inside by Logan with an arm around his shoulder.
Colin pushed the door open and went in first: "Don’t judge a book by its cover."
As the door opened, an assortment of pungent smells rushed out, nearly causing Julian to faint on the spot.
Inside was a bar that seemed not only to have nothing in common with the word "upscale," it barely met the definition of "mid-tier." Groups of burly white men gathered inside, some playing pool, others sitting at the bar watching TV, or in the booths. They engaged in coarse banter while flirting with the barmaids who were serving drinks throughout the place.
The reason Julian almost fainted was that, a second before he could pass out, he saw a barmaid, who apparently lost a pool game and, amid the cheers of numerous men, climbed onto the pool table, undid her top, and gave everyone an eyeful.
For someone like Julian, who’d seen his fair share of action, those boobs weren’t enticing, but the sudden burst of white flesh that filled his vision acted like a shot of adrenaline, preventing him from fainting and giving him two points of interest to focus on.
Next to him, Colin and Logan acted as if they were right at home, especially Colin. That guy actually took a deep breath as if savoring the bar’s atmosphere before heading straight for the bar, crowded with robust, tipsy white men, his movements unrefined and impolite~
It was like a dry run with no lubrication, just squeezed right in.
As Julian expected that the burly man doused in spilled drinks due to Colin’s vigorous actions would explode with rage, Colin had already pulled out some change and tossed it on the counter, while his other hand landed on the shoulder of the still confused man next to him: "Buddy, what can you recommend here? Seeing as it’s my first visit and I’m about to buy you a drink?"
"Frank! Two glasses of Hoboken’s finest whiskey here! My new friend is paying!" the burly man called out to the busy bartender.
Seeing that the bartender was too occupied to attend to him, the man stood up, skillfully grabbed two beers while the bartender wasn’t looking, and handed one to Colin: "You’re buying Milwater whiskey, I’ll buy you this swill beer, try the taste of this swill."
"This stuff contains less alcohol than my seventy-year-old uncle has tadpoles in his body!" Colin gulped it down, then shared his opinion with the man: "Seems like the cost of living here is higher than in Warwick; the owner has to water down the drinks more to make sure he doesn’t go out of business from all the booze theft."
At this moment, a barmaid who had returned from serving drinks approached Colin and eyed the unfamiliar face: "Hey, newcomer, what can I get you?"
Colin, with rough movements, pulled out a bunch of change and said to the barmaid, who was over thirty and wearing thick makeup: "First off, two glasses of Milwater whiskey, for me, and... what’s your name?"
"Pinky Micky." The barmaid didn’t wait for the man to introduce himself and chimed in with his nickname: "The guy with the cue stick who’s as cute as a little pinky."
"Fucking hell," the man known as Micky immediately swore, and the barmaid wasn’t about to be outdone, fiercely retorting back: "The whole world knows even the smallest size at the safe T factory wouldn’t take your money, Micky! You’d better pray they’re willing to make children’s versions for you!"
After both had finished exchanging insults, Colin slammed his emptied beer glass down on the counter, making a loud noise to draw the attention of the patrons, and then announced loudly: "Second! I want everyone here to taste what swill tastes like! This round! The bumpkin Colin Hawk from Warwick City, Rhode Island, is treating everyone!"
After this declaration, all the boozy patrons cheered and raised their glasses to Colin, and those close enough walked over to start conversations with him.
"Logan, Lo..." Julian watched in astonishment as Colin took to the scene like a fish to water. He turned to ask Logan, only to find that Logan Hurl, who should have been at his side, had already vanished. After searching the crowd for some time, Julian finally saw him at the pool table, chatting and laughing with a few burly men, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Feeling dejected, Julian walked over to borrow some coins from Logan, then headed to the payphone in the corner of the bar. He wanted to call his driver to pick him up; the terrible atmosphere made him feel that every extra second he stayed was torture.
Just as he was about to drop the coin in, someone gave his butt a hard pinch. Julian quickly turned around, only to see a barmaid with thick makeup winking at him and shaking her ample bosom: "Nicely toned, firmer than grandma’s tits here."
"I... I’m sorry, what did you say?" Julian didn’t catch on immediately, worried that the loud noise had caused him to mishear.
The barmaid sized up the blond-haired Julian, looking as if she saw right through him, seemingly disgusted with his earlier reaction: "Don’t act like a virgin or a long-time widower in front of me; that attitude makes people sick. What’ll you have, bubble butt?"
"Beer, thank you." Julian hesitated for a moment, clutching the phone receiver, nervously responding.
When the barmaid saw Julian staring at her, he quickly placed the coin on her tray. She gave him a look reserved for idiots and then turned toward the bar.
Julian recalled the barmaid’s tumultuous front as he watched her walk away, and he pushed back the thought of calling his driver to take him away, deciding to stay a little longer.
Although the place looked lousy, and the women were somewhat older, their rawness, boldness, and the lowbrow flirtatiousness were something Julian had never seen in the high-end clubs he frequented. At least before getting into bed, those high-class club women would never be as audacious and blatant as the women here.
"You missed a good opportunity," the bald man sitting at the booth next to him said, holding a glass of draft beer. He mocked Julian, "Lady’s the prettiest cow in the Milk House, bubble butt."
"I’m sorry, did you just speak to me?" Julian took the opportunity to sit opposite the man, asking curiously.
The bald man wiped the beer foam from his beard: "You should’ve ’accidentally’ dropped the coin you had for buying a drink into her bra and taken the chance to feel which is better, her boobs or your butt."
"A coin? Twenty-five cents?" Julian said, somewhat shocked.
"You don’t even have twenty-five cents, do you? A pauper?" the man laughed drunkenly:
"Twenty-five cents for a beer and a chance for additional benefits is quite a bargain, especially when it’s Lady. Not just anyone has the opportunity for Lady to give them perks. She has to fancy you. You just blew your chance by playing a fool..."
Shocked by the bar’s price level, where twenty-five cents could brazenly flirt with the barmaid, Julian asked, "In a place like this, how much would it cost to have a more intimate interaction with a woman?"
"Country bumpkin, you haven’t been to a bar before, and you damn sure don’t have a wife? Get your kicks here and then head straight home to your wife, all pumped up. No extra fee, and your wife will love you more! Otherwise, to get their help, you might be willing to co-parent with the barmaid who helps you out or be ready for your delicate parts to withstand the punch of the husband of the barmaid you’ve bedded." The man looked at Julian with disdain: "How stupid do you have to be to want to get it on with a barmaid from this kind of place?"
"I..." Julian was at a loss for words and wanted to get up and leave.
If it weren’t for women, were Colin and Hurl here just because they liked being surrounded by dozens of burly white men?
Seeing that Julian was about to leave, the drunk man staggered to his feet and called out to him. Julian watched as the man took a beer from his own supply and offered it to him: "Hey, country bumpkin without money for a drink, let this Mr. Wealthy with a fortune of two dozen beers treat you to one."
