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    The melody that was playing was in some Asian language. I had no idea what it said but it felt sad. It must had been that way, since the woman sitting three armchairs from me began to burst into tears, as if someone had suddenly opened a tap on her face. She tried to hide it by looking at the ceiling and wiping away the tears carefully with a napkin, like when something gets in your eye and you try to blink several times so it goes alone with the tears. “What’s the point in trying to hide it” I thought, as if someone there looked any better.I looked at the waiter, who always took a long time to respond, and I gestured to my glass saying “another one”, and pointed to the woman's glass, "the same." The waiter, without the slightest encouragement to serve his clients, moving almost by inertia, served me the cane liquor in the same glass. I think the bastard had never heard anything like changing the glass with every drink. Anyway, mine was already sterilized by the alcohol I had been drinking, compared to the dirt of the other glasses at the bar that I could see from there. He threw a glass on the bar in front of the woman and began pouring. She seemed about 45 years old, a little overweight but with a good figure, up do hair, dressing something casual. Nothing from another world, but it fitted her, it highlighted the curves she had. The waiter finished serving the glass and walked away without looking at us. She looked at me with a fake smile. "Thank you, but I don't drink cane liquor." I looked at her for a few seconds, into her eyes with fake eyelashes and running makeup."Look, ma'am," I said. ”That's what I can afford today but you don't have to drink it. If you'll excuse me…”I reached out to pick up the glass and realized that I hadn't measured the distance between the seats. If it had not been for the slight back support they had, I would have broken my head against the floor. When I was about to take the glass almost hanging from the bar like a zoo monkey that was thrown some fruit, she took it a little bit away from me. "Maybe I will try it then, because of the trouble." she said as she slid it. I slowly returned to my chair, little by little until I got into it, I picked up the glass and said, “Cheers” without much more charisma. She lifted hers and drank. It was true what she said about not drinking cane liquor, her soul almost escaped her body when she tried to swallow everything at once. She coughed loudly."Are you okay?" I said. "Yes, everything’s fine" she replied while trying to incorporate her body into the armchair and breathe normally. Looking at her I realized that her movements were smooth, that she had some class. Or maybe it was the beginning of my drunkenness that made me see her more sensual. I observed how she settled, how her flesh moved and redistributed in her body. She turned to look at me slowly. Tears started to burst out of her eyes again, but this time because of the strength of the drink."You are not from here, right?"she asked, looking at me with a little distrust and a little interest. It was clear that I wasn’t. In such a small town everyone knows each other. An outsider is quite simple to notice. Although stupid, it was the best excuse she had to talk to me, so I tried not to be rude. "No ma'am, I'm not from here." I expected her to correct me and tell me she was a miss, but that didn't happen. I glanced quickly at her hands but found no sign of any ring.“I'm passing through, just for tonight. I missed the last train so here I am, waiting for the dawn in the warmth of this bar.” I said. The woman smiled and looked around. I think she did not understand the concept of irony, or maybe she was just observing which friends or acquaintances were there. "I see," she said, nodding as she searched for something in her purse. Then she got up from her chair with grace, like a movement of a ballet professional, and walked towards the bathrooms that were in the back. I followed her with my eyes. She had a good ass that barely illuminated by the atmosphere of the place made her look even more interesting. I waved at the waiter to pour me another drink. My mouth felt slightly dry. The melody of the place had changed, an old Polka was playing, which made the mood of place feel somewhat different. I couldn't tell if it was more cheerful or more depressing, but it was definitely different. The waiter approached and before pouring the glass looked at me straight in the eyes "Hey, you have money to pay, right?". I reached into my pocket and took the few bills that were left in my pants. I run the numbers in the air and threw the money on the greasy bar, without tip. "Is that okay?" I said staring at him and raising my voice a little. He served the cane liquor snorting, took the money and retired to the other corner. I took the glass and took little sips, trying to retain the taste in my mouth while looking towards the bathroom, thinking if the alcohol would have affected her or if it was something else. I waited a few more minutes without looking away from there and decided to find out. “One more" I ordered the waiter and put a coin next to the glass.I got up from the armchair carefully not to trip, looking at all the Christmas decorations that for some reason persisted there although it was April. I walked slowly towards the bathroom. When I arrived I barely opened the door of the women's restroom and glanced inside. There was nobody there. I walked in and observe the place. Women are as dirty as we are, I thought. I went out slowly and went to the men's room. When I opened the wooden door she was there, smoking a black cigar. Under that cold light of greasy tube, with one of her feet over the toilet and smoke coming out of her mouth, it was a pictorial piece of art that made you want her. She looked at me smiling, took a good puff of the cigar and fired the smoke directly towards me. I smiled back and slowly went through the white curtain that separated us, "Excuse me, I must use the facilities" I said. She pointed me the broken urinal on the other side, which I had not seen. I turned my head and looked at the urinal, staring at it for a few seconds and looked back at her legs in the toilet. They looked great. Without thinking much more, I approached the urinal, opened my pants, took out my thing and began to urinate, putting the other hand on the wall. I had drunk so much that night and I had not felt the need to pee until that moment. She stretched her arm and offered me the cigarette delicately. I tried to manage and take it but gave up. "Excuse me, in this state it is difficult for me to urinate without leaning on the wall." A small smile was drawn on her face, she put down her feet slowly on the floor and approached to stay by my side. "No problem Mr." she said. "I can help you." She took my dick with one of her hands while I continued peeing. I could feel her long nails stroking my skin, she knew how to do it. She put the cigarette in my mouth, and so I could keep my hand on the wall and rest easy while smoking the cigarette with the other hand. I pulled apart the cigarette from my mouth and expelled the smoke up very slowly, while letting a stream circulate between my legs, passing through her delicate hands, like those statues of little angels urinating in the parks. It felt extremely pleasant. Sometimes details like these make one feel like a king being spoiled, without giving any order. I could feel the word “your majesty” being whispered next to my ears as she moved it slowly. I threw my head back with the cigarette in my mouth, lean my head and watched her looking at it carefully.When I finished pissing, she shook my dick with particular grace. I returned her the cigarette and accommodated my pants. I pulled out my pack of crushed cigarettes from my pants, asked her for fire, and we smoked there in silence. She was leaning on the door where the toilet was and I on the wall next to the urinal. We could hear some distant sounds of the night through the small window, and the hum of the light tube. The smoke came out of our lungs, flooded the bathroom and gave it a kind of mystical air mixed with sadness that, even with the smell of urine that was there, I liked.After finished her cigarette, she looked at me and smiling she told me "I'll be right back" and left there without the door making any noise. Between my legs, my pants began to move, started to react. I always had a good imagination for events to come. I thought about washing my face, or washing my dick but gave up. Some things are better to keep them with their natural aroma impregnated on them, if not everything would have the same flavour.After several minutes I got a little impatient, I opened the door and left the bathroom. I went back into the women's one but there was no one inside either. I walked back slowly towards the bar. My drink was waiting for me there, but the woman was gone. I looked at the waiter in an attempt to get an explanation, but I simply turned my head the other way. That old stinky place was completely quiet. You could only hear the buzzing of the old ramshackle fridges. I turned to the old jukebox and introduced a coin. I passed some records and headed to the waiter “Hey, what was the name of that sad song that was playing a while ago? It sounded like Chinese or something.” The guy looked at me, thought for a few seconds, “Ue or muite arukou” he said and turned to the dirty glasses. I was surprised. I looked back at the jukebox, passed other albums and gave up. I went back to the bar and drank my drink in one sip. I looked towards the clock above the bar, it said 03:07 am. I still had a lot of time until the first train at 7:05 am.I looked at the empty glass in front of me through which I could see the dirty deformed bar, and thought to myself if this counted as the last time a woman touched me. I assumed it did not.

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