Plain Jane

As the new guy in the department, I was the one sent to little towns and backwater places around the country. Much like Rocky Raccoon, I found myself in the Dakotas. Unlike Rocky who entered a saloon to shoot off the legs of a rival, I entered a saloon looking to unwind.
Big Cat's Saloon was my watering hole of choice after a long boring week of work. Songs from an old fashion player piano greeted me as I walked through the swinging doors. Around 10:00 pm, music from a live band would begin and continue until closing time. I found a seat at the end of the long bar with a view of the entire place, and settled in to people watch, drink cold beer, and drink more cold beer!
The pool tables were all in use. Some were being used by couples, others by just guys. The dance floor this early in the evening was empty, but that would change as the night progressed. The bar was busy. The only tables unoccupied were the tall ones, but they were beginning to fill up with people ready to kick back and enjoy the evening.
Five girls about my age walked in and made a bee-line to one of the high-rise tables. Before sitting down, one of the girls shrieked and ran over to a guy shooting pool. She reached up and surrounded his neck with her arms. The skimpy black dress she was wearing rode up in the back high enough for me to see the bottom of her ass-cheeks. Within seconds, she and her man headed toward the front door, not to be seen again the rest of the evening.
Three of the remaining four girls were similarly dressed. Plenty of cleavage from low cut tops, short tight skirts, and high heels were the uniform of the evening. The fourth girl, a little taller than her friends was dressed drastically different. She wore jeans, heels and a blouse. The only skin showing on her was her arms. Her blouse was sleeveless. She was possibly the Mother-Hen of the group. Her hair was in a severe pony-tail and her eyes were hidden behind a pair of black framed glasses. Even looking like this, there was something about this Plain Jane that intrigued me.
Throughout the evening it was Plain Jane who made the drink runs to the bar and back. Each round was similar; three cocktails for the three hotties, nothing for her. The same solitary beer sat in front of Plain Jane throughout the evening.
One time when all three of her friends were on the dance floor, Plain Jane stood next to where I was sitting to order more drinks.
"It would be my pleasure to replace that warm beer with an ice cold one," I said.
"Thank you for the friendly gesture. I'll keep that in mind," was her response.

The live band started to play and quite frankly were kicking the shit out of covering songs by popular R