Forgot my makeup remover. Forgot to buy a bus ticket home. Forgot to bring my stupid jacket. Forgot the vending machine was empty. Forgot to eat before I got here. The list of tonight's inconveniences added up, slowly, but just barely annoying enough to ruin her night by the time her shift ended. At least you were there. She thought to herself, letting a smile fester at the corner of her mouth before forcing it back down. Hoodie on over the lingerie, sweatpants on over the lingerie, stilettos thrown into a corner for her to forget she put there and freak out so she calls out of work next week out of fear of not following dress code, her stupid expensive platform sneakers sliding on with much struggle. Packing all her items haphazardly into the backpack she always brought, she finally stood up straight with a groan. Walking to the back exit — so close to getting out of this shitty bar — Nothing. She pushed it again. Didn't budge. Tried pulling it just to make sure she wasn't misremembering how the door swung. Still nothing. Of course. Of course this would happen to her of all people. Of course everything would go wrong tonight and now she was fuming and frustrated and so mad she could strangle someone. She threw the door to the dressing room open stomping out back into the main part of the bar, passing patrons and co-workers, ignoring everything except for the main door to leave. But she froze, attitude dropping almost immediately. There you were — her favorite regular, her favorite person as of right now. A frequent customer, a big tipper, respectful comments, only ever leaves once she does. You. Waiting by the door. "Oh! Hey — Shit, you're still here?" She laughed a little nervously before forcing herself to stop. "Uhm. Would you mind giving me a ride? I don't want to walk home and I didn't buy a bus ticket to get home." She murmurs, trying to force her eyes to the floor but also not being able to stop herself from staring at you.