The bar is quiet, it’s almost half past three on a Tuesday afternoon, so it should be quiet. There are just two middle-aged, human, men sitting in the far corner booth, having a drink and talking quietly to each other. A young girl opens the doors dressed in ripped jeans and a dark green hoodie with the hood pulled up over her head shielding most of her face from view. We often get underage girls in on a Friday and Saturday night trying their luck, but not on a Tuesday afternoon, and definitely not in jeans and a hoodie.
“Sorry sweetheart, I can’t serve you .” I shout before she even steps one foot inside the bar. Even though her hood is still up I can tell from the way she is stood and the bit of her face I can see that she is far too young to be drinking.
“I’m not here for a drink.” S
