At the second bar the crowd was much much older, the view was shit, and the bartender (a younger blonde woman from Michigan) was both oddly sociable and oddly unsociable.
Me and the (German) guy told her about the skyscraper resident stories from the last bar, and her eyebrows raised with the topless yoga story.
"Oh, so she wants to be watched," she was like.
Then, she shut down and wouldn't talk more, though when we talked about Michigan and how it was nice to be so close she did say her little brother who had just turned 21 was coming to visit her soon.
"That's nice," I was like, "If he gets fucked up here, he can just walk over there and throw up," with me making a motion toward a balcony wall of the terrace bar and a general upchuck - out - over gesture.
"Oh no," she was like, "I'm going to take care of him."
"But your coworkers could feed him shots all night," I was like. "There's only so much a person can do in those types of situations. It's really beyond your control"
She was *not* amused - and even less so when I brought up a 2nd time him throwing up off the rooftop bar terrace.
It was like she couldn't fathom a situation where she couldn't take care of her little brother and keep him from getting drunk and throwing up off the rooftop bar terrace!
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