Animal Testing
opening excerpt
The bartender asked me what I wanted, and I said a vodka soda. It felt like an appropriate drink to order after being ghosted by my internet boyfriend.
“You got it,” the bartender said, winking at me.
He tossed ice into a tumbler. Poured three glugs of Absolut into the glass and topped it up with soda. Added a dried-out slice of lime to the rim. Then he placed the tumbler atop a felt pad and slid it across the bar.
“Thanks,” I said.
I took a brief sip of the drink and opened George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
“Great book,” the bartender said, gesturing to the novel.
I had to admit he was attractive, as far as bartenders go. Tall, with the slightest hint of a beer gut, and a thick but well-trimmed beard. A tattoo peeked from underneath his Zeppelin t-shirt sleeve: curve of spotted paw, row of sharp claws. Maybe a leopard.
“Totally,” I said.
The truth was that I hadn’t read a single word of the book. I’d just pretended to read it as I waited for Travis - the internet guy – at Tako Sushi in Kensington Market. I’d chosen it because George Orwell was Travis’s favourite writer. Or so he said. I’d never know for sure, because he’d never shown up. And I still hadn’t even made it past the first sentence.
“I’m a Hemingway guy myself,” the bartender said casually, wiping down the counter. “He tells it like it is.”
“Me too. I love him,” I lied.
Settling back on my bar stool, I opened the book and tried to read. But the words wouldn’t orient themselves properly and I realized the book was upside down. The bartender smirked at me. Then a man and woman entered the bar, the freezing February wind gusting in behind them. I watched them settle themselves a few seats down.
“The usual?” The bartender reached across the bar and bumped the man’s fist.
To vote for this excerpt of Animal Testing please go to the voting page or use the portal posted below. You will be asked to select your top three favourite stories. If Animal Testing is your favourite, be sure to select it as your NUMBER ONE!
