Not everyone would order chicken bouillon, fried potato and a steak after midnight.
Her bar is famous for homemade vodka-shots, meat snacks, local fish and grilled vegetables. And some desserts with coffee/tea. But this guy’s order looked like he was at his wife’s kitchen. Chicken bouillon cheered the bar owner most of all. At 12 p.m.!
Not so many guests you can notice at the bar on weekdays. A couple in love that has been hanging out here for 3 days already – orders coffee and tiramisu and sits here for hours. Just stare and smile for ages. The bar owner turned on some old jazz for them. Nina Simone and her famous “I put a spell on you” – the best for young lovers.
Two old friends, who drink beer here two times a week. They live just behind the corner. They drink too much. Without snacks. Experienced alcoholics.
Two girls – in the end of the bar. One has a blurry make-up. They’ve got 1 bottle of Martini, olives and a shrimp salad. It’s not in the cards: one of them broke up with her boyfriend, another tries to cheer her up.
“Oh, God! So banal and boring …”– thought the bar owner. Nothing special happened here since the bar opening.
But the midnight chicken bouillon cheered her up a bit. This was quite unusual for her. Everyone asked for sushi, pasta or pizza. But this guy with this bouillon and fried potato… So simple, but so touchy.
Man tasted dishes with such an appetite that the bar owner began secretly watching him. She enjoyed inventing biographies to her guests.
This one looked like a bachelor. Nonresident, perhaps. Probably came to the nearest bar.
Good sneakers. But inconsistent a bit. He’s got a sweater with a complex ornament. A tattoo on a wrist. Looks like a hieroglyph.
Typical not local man. His eyes are as green as spring grass. He felt her observation, looked at her – she was embarrassed.
This guy came here every day. Almost at the same time. Except weekends. Ordered some dishes, had a cup of tea. He was always reading something on his phone. Several times he asked something, told his name – exchanged banal phrases.
And then he stopped coming. She thought he would come again in two or three days. But he didn’t.
She carefully asked waiters about him. And even regular customers. But nobody knew anything. What could she do? How could she look for someone, who you know nothing about? Only his name and a color of his sweater’s ornament…
She came back to the bar, looked at his place – heart began to rattle. “So weird, - she thought, - yes, there was a man, who ordered dishes, said “hello”. Nothing special”
But now he is gone. And it looks like life is grey again.
In a while she would receive a huge peony bouquet with an attached envelope and a letter inside: “thanks for the most delicious chicken bullion in my life!”
She would put flowers in a vase with her hands trembling.
Yes, her chicken bouillon is delicious indeed.
It’s a pity he won’t come here anymore.
Men like this usually don’t return.
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