The bartender was a tall blonde guy, a little broader than Jeremy, which was saying something, as Jeremy was the quarterback and was pretty well built. The wavy blonde locks on the bartender, and the perfect smile, so like Jeremy's, tickled my brain. Tiny alarms were going off, but I ignored them like an i***t.
Don't ignore red flags, y'all.
"Hey, Jeremy," said the bartender as we came to sit at the bar. "The usual?"
"Hey, Jordan. Yeah, two whiskey sours please."
"Coming right up."
"Do I get to order my own drink?" I asked.
"Yeah, one of the whiskeys is for you," Jeremy insisted.
"Hmm. I prefer gin." Twas complete bullshit, as I was only nineteen and didn't drink at all, but I wanted to express my dissatisfaction in a way that didn't make me seem uncool.
"Oh, well, the next one can
