Glamour Girl (or eff you blogger there is a 'u' in glamour)

"What's that one's name?"

"Kristin," I said after looking towards where he pointed with his chin.

"What's she advertising now?"

"I can't tell yet."

"Shit, I don't mind staring."

"Yeah, but I do."

It was at the shift change and Kristin came in as an added bartender. She was wearing the required black top but hers had something spelled out in glitter which come to think of it was actually rhinestones and whatever the saying was, underlined her cleavage; cleavage is part two of the requirements as the best that I can recon.

I don't mind looking at pretty girls and all their pretty girl parts but I don't like being a creep about it, I prefer to give the bartenders the allusion, that I'm somewhat of a gentleman.

She came over and asked how our night was; she was the bartender at the first bar of the night of us roaming around with a our former bartender; we left her bar to visit our friends. She knows that former bartender. I showed her the picture Lauren left for me which I thought pretty much summed up the part of the night I would talk about.

Her top read:

Glamour
Girl

Glamour was twice the size in letter height as Girl