A Bitter Pour

Miss Jacqueline Malone didn’t wait for service. Service waited for her.

She strolled into the first bar of the evening—The Sparrow, a neighborhood staple—like she owned it, tossing her designer bag onto the counter and snapping her fingers for attention. The staff recognized her immediately. How could they not? She had once given The Sparrow glowing reviews, boosting their status in the local scene to 4 stars. But tonight was different. Tonight, she wasn’t in a generous mood. Her follower numbers weren’t trending as high as they used to, and she knew there was always another fresher, prettier influencer waiting to take her place. She needed engagement, and what got more clicks than a takedown?

Miss Jacqueline Malone ordered a cocktail, barely looking up from her phone as she typed. The bar was busy, and Tess had been training the new bartender, who was struggling to keep up with the demand of the thirsty Friday evening crowd. She had been working the floor, running drinks to tables, but now she was back behind the bar, keeping an eye on things as the greenhorn tried to keep pace.

The new bartender, unaware of Miss Jacqueline Malone's usual demands, set a drink in front of her with a quick nod before rushing to the next order. She was looking at her phone when she reached for it absently, taking a sip—then immediately recoiled. The saw the cherry floating in it. Her stomach twisted.

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped, her voice sharp as she shoved the glass back across the bar. She turned her fury on the new bartender first. "Do you even know what you’re doing? You just served me something I’m allergic to! That could have killed me!" The bartender stammered an apology, his face pale, but she was already turning to Tess.

"Tess! You were training him, weren’t you? You are trying to poison me! You didn’t bother telling him I can’t have cherry? That your most important client is allergic to cherry. That’s basic hospitality 101!"

She pulled out her phone, typing furiously.

**Something is off at The Sparrow tonight. Watch what you are served …*

She hovered her thumb over the send button, satisfaction curling at the corners of her lips. Then she glanced up, eyes locking on Tess. The waitress was watching her, jaw clenched. "You should be grateful I even come here," Miss Jacqueline Malone spat. 

"Nobody is trying to poison you, Miss Malone." the waitress said calmly.

"You know I can't have cherries in my drinks! And yet, here we are. I even took a tiny sip! I could have died if I had drunk that before noticing! Unbelievable." She returned to continue tapping furiously at her phone, her manicured nails clicking against the screen.

**You can taste it in the drinks, in the service…**

She hovered over the send button, her lips curling into a smirk before she looked up. Her gaze locked onto Tess, her voice dripping with venom. "I made this place a success. I can bury it just as easily. I hit send on this text and The Sparrow is done. My reviews shape places like this. Look around you—these people are here because of me. But tonight it looks perched to take a fall."

Tess clenched her jaw, keeping her voice even. "He was trying to make sure drinks got out fast.  The Friday frenzy is starting earlier than usual this evening. The new bartender made a mistake, but it was just that—a mistake. I’ll get you the right drink right away." She had dealt with Miss Jacqueline Malone long before this evening and knew how this would go.

She was turning away to start mixing Miss Jacqueline Malone her drink when she let her thoughts slip from her lips,“What a Drama Queen!” Her voice was louder than intended, she could see everyone's faces looking towards them in the reflection from behind the bar.

Silence fell over the bar. The owner materialized out of thin air, horror in his eyes. “Miss Malone!" he glared at Tess before turning to Miss Jacqueline Malone. "I sincerely apologize for this. Please, have another drink on the house. Let’s not let this misunderstanding ruin your evening.” He turned sharply back to the waitress. "Apologize to Miss Malone, we will comp her bar tab," He nervously smiled back at Miss Jacqueline Malone, "Anything you want - is on the house," he ordered, his voice tight as glared one more time at Tess.

Every customer had their attention on the bar - on Tess. The waitress’s stomach twisted, but she had no choice. She had to swallow her pride and force the words out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Miss Malone."

"Excuse me, what was that you said," Miss Jacqueline Malone demanded, savoring the moment," A little louder, I couldn't quite hear you, sweetie." She could hear snickers from a nearby table, and the woman’s smirk only widened. Tess would lose the tips that made working a Friday night worthwhile, it would be even harder to make rent this month.

“You’re dismissed for the night,” her manager confirmed.

The waitress’s face burned with humiliation. She wanted to fight back, but she couldn't afford to lose her job. The Sparrow was a great gig. Instead, she gave Miss Jacqueline Malone one last, withering look before grabbing her coat and storming out the back door.

Tess stomped her way straight to The Lion’s Den—the newly opened bar two blocks away—and walked in unwrapping the hand-knit scarf from her face so she could breathe. The bar was crowded and she needed to slide between bodies before making her way to the bar. She slid underneath the bar's hatch, popping up beside the handsome bartender. She quickly leaned in putting her arms around his waist. His hands were in the air placing some glasses on an upper shelf. She let go and started to help him behind the bar.

“I thought you were working The Sparrow tonight?” he asked as he started muddling the limes for the Mojitos that had been ordered.

“I was,” she muttered. “That bitch! The influencer threw a tantrum and threatened to tank The Sparrow’s rating just because the new bartender served her the wrong drink—one with cherry in it -- she’s allergic. You’d think she’d check before taking a sip, but no. I had to apologize to the c--- in front of everyone!”

"You didn't call her that did you? He frowned at her, "Mama wouldn't like you talking like that, Tessie."

Tess continued," Yeah, well Mama wouldn't like Miss Jacqueline Malone's high and mighty attitude either - nor would she like the fact that I just lost a chance at Friday night cash tips that would have helped us pay rent this month!"

"The owner begged her not to write anything bad and gave her everything for free.” She scoffed. “I keep telling him it's like feeding a wolf and hoping it won’t bite. Tess said snarkily before turning serious. "But he doesn't listen - he wants to keep his 4 star rating. She'll be the reason I get fired." The bartender's brow furrowed at that.

Tess went on to continue her rant, "She’s so annoying. She thinks she so important and so beautiful. She's such an entitled -- shit! She is walking in!" Tess's eyes widened as it registered that Jackie was standing at the front door beginning to effortlessly part the sea of bodies like Moses.

The bartender looked at Tess and nodded. Tess headed for the back exit for the second time that night. Alex polished a glass and looked as Trouble walked toward him.

Jacqueline Malone didn’t see the waitress leave. Didn’t register her presence at all. Why would she? People like that were furniture—objects to be placed, moved, dismissed. Instead, she strolled in, head held high, phone in hand, and took a seat at the bar as if it had been reserved just for her.

The bar had just opened a few weeks ago. There was something unique and original about it that she couldn't pinpoint - they seemed to be drawing people in already with no social media presence.  Fresh meat that was promising. She needed something new and different to spice up her feed. New businesses feared bad reviews even more than established ones. She could do whatever she wanted here.

She texted as she approached.

 **Just walked into the new Lion's Den, I hope the drinks are as delicious as the bartender looks, stay tuned **

“Miss Jacqueline Malone, The Barstool Babe,” she announced, tapping her phone screen with perfectly manicured nails. "Let’s start with a Ramos Gin Fizz. And make it right." She didn’t bother looking up, already typing her next post.  The bartender nodded and went to work, carefully layering citrus, gin, cream, and egg white, shaking it vigorously for the signature silky texture before adding the final splash of soda water. He set it in front of her, the foam thick and silky, just as it should be.

She sipped. Then frowned, swirling the liquid in the glass. "This isn't what I expected" she sipped it again," It’s weirdly thick. There's too much foam." she took a third sip. "This is wrong. Make me something else?” She had ordered it before, but it had never been made the correct way -- with egg whites...

She shoved it back across the bar and picked up her phone, briefly rubbing her throat before focusing on the screen.

The bartender remained calm. Unshaken. He wiped down the counter slowly as if considering. "Maybe something else, then? Something... unique. A rare specialty we serve here."

Jacqueline Malone rolled her eyes. The bartender nodded. "We have a rare specialty—The Midnight Reverie. A unique cocktail you won’t find at many places. It's balanced, sophisticated—perfect for someone with an elevated palate."

Jacqueline smirked. "Perfect. Let's see if it's worth the hype."

She didn’t notice the slight tilt of his head. Didn’t catch the fleeting smirk. She was too busy scrolling her feed, watching other influencers post their latest sponsored content, their latest viral moments. Her fingers twitched. She needed another win tonight. Or a takedown. She had promised Dom at The Sparrow she’d hold off—for now. That place still had its uses. But here? Here at The Lion’s Den… she shook her head. No loyalties. No consequences. Just opportunity. She knew the fastest way to trending up would be to tear something down - and The Lion's Den would be the target of her wrath.

The bartender set the drink in front of her. A perfect Midnight Reverie. The delicate foam sat just right on top, the tartness of fresh citrus balanced with the smooth sweetness of the spirit, the aroma of dark fruit bitters curling in the air. Garnished beautifully. Balanced just right. And made with an infusion of stone fruit brandy and apricot bitters, the subtle complexity deepening with every sip.

Jacqueline took a sip, barely acknowledging the drink. Another sip, her mind half on her phone. Then—a pause.

She swallowed hard. A slight itch crept down her throat, a sensation just subtle enough to dismiss. The air was dry in the bar. Or maybe the foam from the previous drink. She took another breath, but something still felt... off.

She looked up at the bartender, her breath quickening. The room felt smaller, the glow of her phone screen suddenly too bright. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she met his steady gaze. He leaned in slowly, deliberate, his expression unreadable.

“Your last drink is on me,” he said.

Jacqueline’s lips parted in protest. “This won’t be my last drink—I plan on staying all night. Keep them coming, or I'll make sure everyone knows how disappointing this place really is,” she murmured, her fingers fumbling for her phone.

She pressed a hand lightly to her collarbone, swallowing again. Jacqueline’s breath hitched. Her throat felt tighter now, the itch deepening into something more insistent. She shifted in her seat, swallowing again, but it didn’t go away. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her phone, knocking over her glass as she blinked against the sudden warmth in her face.

Alex’s voice was even. Unshaken. “You are done, Miss Malone. You are DONE.”

Author's Note

A Bitter Pour is my modern reimagining of Ray Bradbury’s short story A Beautiful Shave. In Bradbury’s version, a washed-up prospector, James Malone, walks into a barbershop, flaunting his dominance and threatening those around him—only to meet an unexpected fate. I was struck by the story’s themes of power, intimidation, and the slow but inevitable shift in control. In updating it for today, I wanted to explore how influence operates differently in the digital age, where clout and reputation are currency.

Rather than a gun-slinging brute, my version centers on a social media influencer, a woman who believes her reviews and online presence make her untouchable. The barber’s razor becomes a bartender’s pour, and just like in Bradbury’s tale, the one who enters expecting total control slowly realizes, too late, that they never had it at all.