Maritime shot
The Rock Shot
Served in St-John's, Newfoundland
Ingredients:
Beer on tap
Celtic band
One barman
One musician
Mix and serve
The place was jammed. Every place was jammed, really, all up and down King Street. Sean was pretty sure that there was enough music spilling from the pubs and bars that people really didn't need to get inside one to be a part of the party--but they did if they wanted to drink. He was damn near run off his feet serving drinks and pulling draught, but the tips were amazing.
It was actually a great night for bar work--people were happy, the music was great, and the band looked hotter than the beach in July. Which, of course, was kind of fitting given the date. The best part about tending bar on Canada Day, though, was that everyone kind of took off for an hour or so for the fireworks. Just long enough to clean up, relax, and restock before they all came back. If he was fast, he could do the relaxing up on the roof and watch the fireworks with the rest of the crew.
But he kind of hoped he'd get to miss them. The band had just announced they had time for a couple more songs and the guitar player had just picked up the tin flute. Now, Sean wasn't really one to get lost on the musicians that rolled on through--but that pretty mouth all puckered up to blow certainly got his attention. He served drinks as best and as fast as he could, the whole time trying to get glimpses of ... damn. He'd been introduced, earlier. Mikey. Mike. Yeah, that was it. Sean watched Mike play and sprung wood before he could really stop himself.
So he was kind of thinking a quick trip to the john when the place emptied would be a good idea instead of going up to watch the fireworks. Kind of make his own.
He watched Mike go back to the guitar for the last song, singing backup and closing his eyes during the chorus, long eyelashes lying on his cheeks. He got yet another Moosehead out of the cooler when he got yelled at and realized he probably shouldn't be so aware of the man's eyelashes; they weren't really close enough for him to see that well. It just showed where his attention was.
"Sean. This is Moose. I wanted Keith's." Tressa looked pissed and waved the bottle at him. "Stop your staring and pay attention. They'll be done soon and you can make your move then."
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