A hour or so later there were more regulars than stragglers, an outside of the music and joyful dancing of a few couples the atmosphere was calm enough that Ara would prop herself up on a stool and begin to read an old story her boss, Boris, kept insisting was a classic - Anna Karenina.
"Women...." Ara muttered with a soft laugh as she reached the end of a chapter and closed the book, when she looked up she'd see a group of men dancing to the Traditional Russian tune Boris and a couple others were playing on the small stage. She couldn't help but laugh at the mens horrible attempt at dancing.
"You should take lessons from your wife and son!" she'd shout out to one of the men before pointing to his young child and Wife, who were right in step with the tempo. Someone suggested putting the boy up on the table so all could see, and within seconds the table was rocking back and forth with the boys movements until the song was over, and applause came from nearly everyone watching.
As a new song started up Ara hopped off her stool and poured herself a glass of Vodka - minus the ice. Outside of a few bad drunks and the large crowds that sometimes got a little rowdy she really enjoyed the often jubilant people and hardworking families that frequented the Saloon, it had become like a new family to her, one that she preferred much more than her biological relatives.
"Ey!" one of the other dancers said to her, dropping the "H" off her greeting like most of Russian decent did, as she made her way behind the bar dressed in pair of leggings and a white fitted sweater that matched her furry boots.
"Aren't you suppose to be off now?" the girl asked as she began to search the shelves for something a customer requested.
"Yes, but it's just boring in that empty dark thing I call a home. However I do have some delicious Salmon waiting for me at Hilbito's...."
After finding what she was looking for the girl scurried over to the table she was servicing and Ara made her way back stage, where she'd slide on a pair of jeans, back knee-high boots, and the thick winter coat she brought along with her from Paradise.
"Poka!!" she'd call out to the crowd when she walked from backstage, and the people quickly yelled bye back before she disappeared behind the counter one last time, in a bid to find her backpack.
As she was knelt down Ara heard the door open, and after she grabbed her bag she'd stand to sling it over her shoulder - where she'd come face to face with the bar's latest customer - someone she didn't recognize, but she would still give a slight nod of acknowledgement to the girl before zipping up her coat.
Ara wouldn't take more than two steps to leave before the woman now sitting in front of her muttered "Care for a private show?"
An expression of puzzlement deliberately made it's way on Ara's face as she flipped up her hood. Each customer had their own way of asking for what they wanted but the woman before her was missing a word, which might be acceptable from someone she's familiar with but since the woman wasn't a familiar customer Ara's natural lack of trust kicked in.
"A private show, from a woman?!" she asked with a small smirk. "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong kind of establishment. I can offer you a drink though if you wish. If not, there's a shop with some food that has my name written all over it."
As Ara fiddled with her coats buttons a young teenager came over and asked for a set of napkins, which she gladly handed over. However when he stepped back from the counter his eyes would widen as he looked down.
"Nice! What is that, a shotgun or a rifle?" he'd say, before his date called him back to their table.
Interest peaked Ara would hop up on her stool and peer over the counter.
"Now what is a pretty young woman doing with such a weapon?" she asked as she sat up from the counter. "Never mind don't answer that, innocent faces can be deceiving I suppose....."
There was no one else at the bar at the moment so she felt there was no issue in talking rather bluntly.
"Okay so tell me, what exactly are you looking to do with that?"