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Simple
Promiscuity walks into a bar and glances around, surveying the grey environment she just entered. The floor appears to glisten, and she knows from experience this is not because it is freshly mopped. She looks up to the bar, attempting to keep the frown off her face. To her amusement, she finds a few heads are already turned, peering curiously in her direction. Smiling seductively at them, she saunters over to an empty stool near the end of the counter and sits down. The bartender is in front of her seconds later, and lets his eyes wander before asking, “What can I get for you, Miss?” Like moths drawn to the flame, she thinks, smirking internally at her joke. “A Cosmopolitan… please." She smiles flirtatiously at him, deciding he is attractive enough for her standards. Well, if nothing else, I have a back-up, she muses.
As she waits for her drink, Promiscuity gives the men around her a once-over. Nothing especially exciting tonight; however, Promiscuity is not entirely disappointed with her options. Seeing a potential and making eye contact, she smiles at him. I'll give you two minutes, she thinks to herself. Turing back around, she examines the colorful bottles of alcohol in front of her: the blue-tinged bottle of Grey Goose, the red cap of the Smirnoff, the amber liquid inside of the José. Just as the Cosmopolitan is placed in front of her, Potential has worked up the courage to make his approach. "Let me get that for you," he says, leaning over her shoulder and pushing cotton towards the dejected bartender. Sliding into the chair next to her he asks, "What's your name?"
Promiscuity pauses to think for a moment. Who does she want to be tonight? That's the beauty of her little game. Every time she meets someone new, she can recreate herself. These men don't know her, won't know her, and will never see her again after the morning. For one night, she can be anyone, anything. A journalist, a secretary, a CEO, an anesthesiologist. They will never be able to disprove her lies. Thinking of the bottles of intoxicating liquid she just examined, she replies "Amber."
"Amber. That's a pretty name," replies Potential. "I'm Mark." Promiscuity likes his name also. Mark. It's short, simple. Just like their night together will be.
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