Sure-Fire
by parthenogenesis

I took a seat around the end of the bar, where I could see everyone else at the bar as well as the people in the room. About the time my beer arrived, the guy next to me leaned toward me and said, "Think you'll get lucky tonight?"

I laughed outright. "Lucky?" I said. "What's luck got to do with it? I prefer a sure thing." Fuckin' losers who think they have to go after the prettiest girl in the room and get rejected about ninety percent of the time.

My sure-fire way to get laid is to ignore the best-looking women entirely and focus on one you know will still be alone after all the scrabbling's done. I mean, let's be honest here: you don't take them to bed for the face, right?

While all the losers were hopping from table to table, trying their luck, I saw a woman sit down at the opposite end of the bar from me and knew she was the one. It looked like I'd probably need an extra couple of drinks before I was ready for her, but, I mean, hey, let's be honest here, the girls get better looking toward the end of the evening, right?

I just kept the beers coming while the jukebox played and the room thinned slowly. Finally, I was ready to make my move.

I went to the other end of the bar and slid onto the stool next to the girl of my choice. "Buy you a drink?" I said.

She raised her head and looked around for a few seconds before she zeroed in on my face. Then she pulled her head back, shut one eye, and squinted with the other. "Yeah, you'd better," she said. "I could use a couple more."