[ WP ] I could see it in their hooded glances and practiced smiles .

`` Hey, Adam.'' 
 
 That familiar tone of voice fills my stomach with that cold, clammy feeling of anxiety. *Oh no, * I think, *she's here*. 
 
 Last week was quite possibly the most uncomfortable shift of my life. It started like any other - hectic, chaotic, stressful - and calmed to the steady, almost relaxing dinner rush, all within a half hour of my arrival. She was working - bustling about to each of her five tables - as she normally does every Tuesday, but that night, there was something different about her. 
 
 Her posture was a little straighter, her hair a little curlier, her makeup a little heavier. Normally a single change would not have caught my eye, but the combination seemed to have a profound effect on the way she interacted with others. She was a woman on a mission. 
 
 And her mission was me. 
 
 She started off innocently enough with the usual - how are you doing? - but this time she peppered in a pick-up line, which, if I'm being completely honest, was executed perfectly. `` You must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day.'' I was n't entirely sure she was trying to flirt, until I saw her face: flushed and determined. 
 
 I was flattered, but also a bit uncomfortable; I did n't know how to respond to such blatant forwardness. Before I could formulate an appropriate response, her best friend arrived for her shift, and I just knew that the night would be flooded with more of my discomfort. I could see it in their hooded glances and practiced smiles. The way they looked me up and down as I traversed across the restaurant. The ever-present grins that played upon their lips. The prolonged eye contact as I poured their drinks. I felt like the sole guppy in a shark-filled aquarium. 
 
 I thought they would go for the new bartender - young, muscular, objectively attractive - but no, they incessantly focused on me, the man with at least a dozen years on them, as well as a hundred pounds. The man with a kid, the start of a bald spot, and the grace of an elephant on roller skates ( as evidenced by the record number of glasses shattered that evening ). 
 
 The restaurant emptied around midnight, and one by one, the servers checked in with me to get their tip-out slips signed. Her friend was one of the first to leave, so some of the pressure evaporated with that departure. 
 
 But *she* was the closer, so she would be there until she finished all the extra sidework. I paced nervously around my bar, on edge, until she was done. As she approached me to sign her tip-out slip, a slow smile spread across her face. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her mind at the last moment. 
 
 I spoke instead. `` What?'' 
 
 The smile remained on her face as she said, `` Nothing needs to be said now that ca n't wait until next week.'' She clocked out and disappeared, but her implied promise of continued flirtation lingered over my bar. 
 
 So now, as I glance into her dancing eyes with my own anxious stare, I begin my practiced lines of shutting down this girl's unnerving crush. 
 
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 Feedback welcome! Maintaining proper grammar and consistent voice was a bit of a challenge, so please let me know if there's something I can change or work on.
