If You Laugh The Drink is Free!
Nurude Sasara…Ambiguous Reader
Working at a restaurant was certainly an experience and not what you expected in your 20s but tonight was different. Weird different. A simple wager, if you crack a laugh this guy’s drink is free.
A sticky bar was the worst rotation in this place. But, with all the new hires who were underage you unfortunately got stuck with the bar more times than not.
What can I get for you today, sir?”
The old rock tunes played over the head speakers, the regular alcoholics sat at the bar polite for once asking casually for more rounds with loosened ties and red skin.
A whirlwind of patterns sat before you. With green ombré hair on top of everything.
Hmm…”
The man leaned an elbow onto the sticky counter, resting his chin in his hand as a bright, practiced smile spread across his face. Everything about him screamed loud—from the clash of patterns on his outfit down to the playful, sharp glint in his eyes.
Well now! Ain't you a picture of late-night customer service enthusiasm,"
He chirped, his voice dropping into that smooth, rhythmic Kansai cadence that practically commanded attention.
Uhm—“
Before you could even hand him a menu, he slid a finger across the laminate wood toward you, tapping it once with theatrical flair.
Tell ya what, barkeep. I’m a simple guy with a complex thirst. So how about a little wager to spruce up your shift?"
He flashed a broad, fox-like grin. The smile alone made your finger twitch as he rambled on interested in this ‘LITTLE wager’.
I give you my order—plus one certified, high-grade joke. If I can get you to crack a laugh, or even let out one of those polite little nose-exhales, my drink is on the house."
Leaning into the sticky brown counter just a fraction closer raising a sharp eyebrow,
If you can stand there and stay cold as ice? I pay full price and double your tip. What do you say? Sound like a fair trade, or am I just mixing business with pleasure?"
You blinked, the audacity of this dude. Wiping down the counter with a damp rag to get rid of that syrup touch you sighed.
You're awfully confident for a guy wearing that many patterns."
He gasped dramatically taking mock offence,
Hey, fashion is art, and humor is a science!"
Clearing his throat before clapping his hands together, once.
So, do we have a deal, or are you afraid my comedy is just too intoxicating for ya?"
Folding your arms across your chest you leaned your hip against the countertop.
Alright Mr Comedian, you’ve got five seconds. Make ‘em count polka dots.”
Five seconds? Ha! That's a lifetime for a pro,"
The man smirked, cracking his knuckles with theatrical fanfare. He stood up straight, clearing his throat like he was stepping onto a main stage.
Alright, brace yourself! Why did the bottle of tequila cross the road? To prove it had spirit! ...No? Okay, okay!….
He cleared his throat sitting closer at the bar now licking his bottom lip before firing back.
What's a bartender's favorite classic rock song? Anything with a good draft! Ah—wait, how about this one: you look like you've had a rough night, but don't worry, I'm here to give your shift a lift! Get it? Draft? Spirits?"
He threw his arms out with a beaming, expectant grin, eyes sparkling with supreme confidence.
You didn't blink.
You didn't smirk. You just held his gaze, slowly wiping down the exact same spot on the counter with your damp rag, completely unbothered.
The silence stretched between you, heavy enough to drown out the old rock tunes humming overhead. Five seconds passed. Ten.
His charming bright foxy grin slowly froze.
Nothing?"
He whispered, his voice pitching up an octave.
Not even a tiny nose-snort? A micro-twitch of the lip?"
You gave a flat, slow blink.
Aaargh, no way!"
He instantly collapsed, face-planting straight onto his arms against the sticky bar. A long, muffled groan of utter despair echoed off the laminate.
My craft! My sacred Osaka pride! Slain by a sticky bar! I'm ruined... completely washed up!"
He dragged his hands down his face with tragic, Shakespearean agony, groaning at the ceiling as if the universe had personally betrayed him.
I gotta go back to the drawing board! Retire! Live in the mountains and tell jokes to the pine cones!"
Seeing this wildly dressed guy completely melt into a puddle of dramatic sorrow over a bad dad joke was too much. A sudden snort broke through your nose, and before you could suppress it, you burst into a full, genuine laugh.
Sasara’s head snapped up, his eyes instantly gleaming.
Aha! I heard it! That was a laugh!"
I’m laughing AT you, not the jokes,"
You managed to say, shaking your head as you set your rag down.
You looked like you were going through the five stages of grief over a tequila pun."
Details, details! A laugh's a laugh, barkeep! And that means I WIN!”
He beamed, sitting up straight and dusting off his jacket with total smug triumph.
But hey, a deal's a deal."
He reached into his pocket, sliding a folded stack of bills across the bar—far more than enough to cover a drink, leaving a ridiculously generous tip behind.
Keep the change,"
He winked, flashing a signature fox-like smile as he picked up his glass.
Consider it payment for the front-row seat. I'll be back when I've polished up some better material!"
Only then did you glance at the tv playing across a few tables. Hey isn’t that…
Famous comedian Nurude Sasara, that same guy with the melon soda shades hair…frazzled for meeting a local celebrity you just blinked.
This was certainly one of the weirdest shifts at the bar to date.
Anonymously Requested! <3
If this is out of character it’s because I’m an unc now retired writer but like I enjoy writing for unappreciated characters/fandoms hopefully you guys like it
