No Better Man (CA - Robin, Uno, Saber, & Tiffany)
Quote from Adriana on November 20, 2019, 8:04 pmI rolled the bill into my fist and nodded, watching him leave. I didn't say goodbye. Just no good at them, honestly.
I hoped he might come back. But it was doubtful. Doubtful he would, or that I'd still be working here when he did. The atmosphere was was a note warmer for his having been here, but colder for his leaving.
After he was gone, I continued cleaning, until the diner was almost something habitable. All the while my thoughts stuck on Harold the Wise Man. I can't tell anyone why I get so hung up on things like that. Like the first rain after a long drought, it gives me enough to get through the next dry spell.
Walking from the diner to the next gig, I wondered how Val was doing..
I rolled the bill into my fist and nodded, watching him leave. I didn't say goodbye. Just no good at them, honestly.
I hoped he might come back. But it was doubtful. Doubtful he would, or that I'd still be working here when he did. The atmosphere was was a note warmer for his having been here, but colder for his leaving.
After he was gone, I continued cleaning, until the diner was almost something habitable. All the while my thoughts stuck on Harold the Wise Man. I can't tell anyone why I get so hung up on things like that. Like the first rain after a long drought, it gives me enough to get through the next dry spell.
Walking from the diner to the next gig, I wondered how Val was doing..
Quote from Indy on November 20, 2019, 8:05 pmMeanwhile, in an interview...
“You can take a seat now,” came a gruff, deep voice. It sounded impatient.
I blinked, realizing I’d lost myself somewhere between the waiting room (the discount shoe rack) and his office (past the stacks of inventory boxes). It took me a moment to realize what ‘seat’ he may be referring to. His office was a small desk overflown with paperwork and haphazardly shoved behind the inventory. Finally, I found my “chair”. A box. I took a seat.
I turned to look at the imposing bulk of the man behind the desk. I was by no means a slight person, but it was hard not to feel that way sitting next to him. Even with his back hunched so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling, he gave me the impression of a gorilla — A gorilla forced to sit at a desk far too small. His head was shiny and bald, but he possessed a thick black beard streaked with grey. He was giving me an odd look. I followed the look all the way down, seeing his hand was slightly raised. Oh. I brought up my hand as if I were blocking a punch to take it. With a vice-like grip likely intended to crush every bone in my body, I bore it with a grimace. The man nodded, as if I’d passed some test. He released it.
“So tell me, why do you want to do security work?,” he grunted.
“Because I think I’d be good at it,” I replied simply, and it was the truth.
I’d been working a few part time jobs for over the past year or so. At first it was just a few hours here or there at the local gas station or doing some odd-jobs around town. It was strange to come back in-step with the world I’d forgotten existed, but I couldn’t let Robin keep working herself to death on my behalf. I wasn’t complaining; the idleness had been far more malignant than moving someone’s fridge or sitting behind the grimy counter of a local gas station. But there was a part of me that I missed my old life, as much as I wanted to forget. I’d been good at it. Maybe stopping shoplifters was a far cry from what I’d used to stop, but it was close enough.
Again, the world had moved on without me. When I glanced up, the man was squinting at me. Waiting.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” I asked, focusing very intently at his black beard this time.
“I was asking about your qualifications for the role and past work experience,” he grunted impatiently
“I have a GED,” I murmured, “And I’ve been working at the gas station part-time”. And a lifetime of hunting monsters in the woods.
The man made notes as if he was interested, but I could see his lips grimace with displeasure, “And what is your experience in detaining someone?”
Extensive experience. In fact, I could detain someone at least thrice my body weight and hog-tie their arms and legs with a steel cable.
“I’ve met a few people that had one too many drinks and were making trouble,” I said flatly.
Again, the man made a kind grimace. He probably wanted to hear how I went into allies and beat up thugs for the police. Not that Chapman needed any help.
The man sighed, rolling his temples. I saw his eyes glance down to his page. I was just another name on his list of candidates. I could see him reading the next words off his page, “Describe the last time you had to deal with an assault. How did you handle the situation and what could you have done differently?”
I dropped my gaze as my face went ice-cold, cold sweat on my forehead, and swallowed hard. He didn’t want to hear about the last time. I didn’t even remember it, really. I braced myself with a breath, trying to remember what Rebecca used to say. Nothing came to mind, but staring into the unmoving forms of the boxes outside of the scope small desk lamp seemed to steady my heartrate. I steadied myself by rolling my fingernails into my palms, exhaled shakily, and met the gorilla man’s grey eyes sharply. That got his attention, if only because the strange umber-orange color tended to capture curious looks. And the eyepatch probably didn’t help.
“I was trying to get a friend out of a bad situation,” I mumbled something about family trouble or maybe an abusive boyfriend. It didn’t matter, because I felt myself continuing regardless, even as my fingers went bone-white in my fist, “I knew the place well, I’d studied the layout before I went over. The whole place was crawling with his…brothers”.
The next few words rushed by, as if they weren't mine. I guess they weren't, since it had been retold to me later, “I came in where I knew he wouldn’t see me and took them by surprise, but there were still a lot more of them than me”.
I felt my lips settle into a grim kind of smile as I scoured the man's expression for the same disinterest he had before, “My mistake was that I didn’t ask for help. I don’t make that mistake anymore”.
Meanwhile, in an interview...
“You can take a seat now,” came a gruff, deep voice. It sounded impatient.
I blinked, realizing I’d lost myself somewhere between the waiting room (the discount shoe rack) and his office (past the stacks of inventory boxes). It took me a moment to realize what ‘seat’ he may be referring to. His office was a small desk overflown with paperwork and haphazardly shoved behind the inventory. Finally, I found my “chair”. A box. I took a seat.
I turned to look at the imposing bulk of the man behind the desk. I was by no means a slight person, but it was hard not to feel that way sitting next to him. Even with his back hunched so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling, he gave me the impression of a gorilla — A gorilla forced to sit at a desk far too small. His head was shiny and bald, but he possessed a thick black beard streaked with grey. He was giving me an odd look. I followed the look all the way down, seeing his hand was slightly raised. Oh. I brought up my hand as if I were blocking a punch to take it. With a vice-like grip likely intended to crush every bone in my body, I bore it with a grimace. The man nodded, as if I’d passed some test. He released it.
“So tell me, why do you want to do security work?,” he grunted.
“Because I think I’d be good at it,” I replied simply, and it was the truth.
I’d been working a few part time jobs for over the past year or so. At first it was just a few hours here or there at the local gas station or doing some odd-jobs around town. It was strange to come back in-step with the world I’d forgotten existed, but I couldn’t let Robin keep working herself to death on my behalf. I wasn’t complaining; the idleness had been far more malignant than moving someone’s fridge or sitting behind the grimy counter of a local gas station. But there was a part of me that I missed my old life, as much as I wanted to forget. I’d been good at it. Maybe stopping shoplifters was a far cry from what I’d used to stop, but it was close enough.
Again, the world had moved on without me. When I glanced up, the man was squinting at me. Waiting.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” I asked, focusing very intently at his black beard this time.
“I was asking about your qualifications for the role and past work experience,” he grunted impatiently
“I have a GED,” I murmured, “And I’ve been working at the gas station part-time”. And a lifetime of hunting monsters in the woods.
The man made notes as if he was interested, but I could see his lips grimace with displeasure, “And what is your experience in detaining someone?”
Extensive experience. In fact, I could detain someone at least thrice my body weight and hog-tie their arms and legs with a steel cable.
“I’ve met a few people that had one too many drinks and were making trouble,” I said flatly.
Again, the man made a kind grimace. He probably wanted to hear how I went into allies and beat up thugs for the police. Not that Chapman needed any help.
The man sighed, rolling his temples. I saw his eyes glance down to his page. I was just another name on his list of candidates. I could see him reading the next words off his page, “Describe the last time you had to deal with an assault. How did you handle the situation and what could you have done differently?”
I dropped my gaze as my face went ice-cold, cold sweat on my forehead, and swallowed hard. He didn’t want to hear about the last time. I didn’t even remember it, really. I braced myself with a breath, trying to remember what Rebecca used to say. Nothing came to mind, but staring into the unmoving forms of the boxes outside of the scope small desk lamp seemed to steady my heartrate. I steadied myself by rolling my fingernails into my palms, exhaled shakily, and met the gorilla man’s grey eyes sharply. That got his attention, if only because the strange umber-orange color tended to capture curious looks. And the eyepatch probably didn’t help.
“I was trying to get a friend out of a bad situation,” I mumbled something about family trouble or maybe an abusive boyfriend. It didn’t matter, because I felt myself continuing regardless, even as my fingers went bone-white in my fist, “I knew the place well, I’d studied the layout before I went over. The whole place was crawling with his…brothers”.
The next few words rushed by, as if they weren't mine. I guess they weren't, since it had been retold to me later, “I came in where I knew he wouldn’t see me and took them by surprise, but there were still a lot more of them than me”.
I felt my lips settle into a grim kind of smile as I scoured the man's expression for the same disinterest he had before, “My mistake was that I didn’t ask for help. I don’t make that mistake anymore”.
Quote from Indy on November 23, 2019, 8:11 pmI came out of the interview feeling like someone had microwaved my insides. I don't remember any more of what I said, the words just a blur, but I was betting they were the wrong things. I shuffled out of the office, past the crowds of the mall. Maybe it was for the best. The mall made me feel like a ghost-- I didn't belong to it. But once I made it to my beat, white 1986 Honda Accord in the parking lot I felt instantly better. The car was familiar, from the worn grooves in the steering wheel to the broken cup-holder. I never doubted if I belonged to it. I turned the key and the car gave a throaty purr.
I carefully maneuvered out of the parking lot, taking an extra long sweep in my blind spot. It was natural now. It hadn't been at first, but now I could drive comfortably in the daylight hours. I set my noble steed to a drive-thru and ordered myself a generous cup of hot coffee. The warmth felt good in my fingertips. I took small sips on the road during the red lights, unconcerned about getting anywhere fast. I had plenty of time to pick up Robin.
I came out of the interview feeling like someone had microwaved my insides. I don't remember any more of what I said, the words just a blur, but I was betting they were the wrong things. I shuffled out of the office, past the crowds of the mall. Maybe it was for the best. The mall made me feel like a ghost-- I didn't belong to it. But once I made it to my beat, white 1986 Honda Accord in the parking lot I felt instantly better. The car was familiar, from the worn grooves in the steering wheel to the broken cup-holder. I never doubted if I belonged to it. I turned the key and the car gave a throaty purr.
I carefully maneuvered out of the parking lot, taking an extra long sweep in my blind spot. It was natural now. It hadn't been at first, but now I could drive comfortably in the daylight hours. I set my noble steed to a drive-thru and ordered myself a generous cup of hot coffee. The warmth felt good in my fingertips. I took small sips on the road during the red lights, unconcerned about getting anywhere fast. I had plenty of time to pick up Robin.
Quote from Adriana on November 25, 2019, 10:42 pmSomehow, El Blanco Lobo was an infinitely better place than Jon's Burger Stop. At least when there was a weird smell or people were grade A deadbeats, they usually had an explanation in this place. Inebriation does that to a man. Or woman.
The music wasn't too loud. It wasn't that kind of young, "hip" place where not hearing each other speak was totally in, and having eardrums was totally out. It was frequented by your camping party just returned to town, by your worked six AM til eight PM and need to soothe some tight muscles before going to bed, no nonsense category of people. Here, when people were acting like perfect dingus', I could say so, and take away their bottle. It was a kind of power I had always wanted.
Right now we were setting up, doing inventory, polishing shotglasses and making sure everything was ready for the rush. The doors opened at six, but we didn't get busy until eight. I usually got here around five to help set up, after the walk from my other job. The Wolf, as I called it, was more in the center of Pinerich.
"Doors open in five," I called out over my shoulder, doing a final scan to make sure we had the sports channel set up, ash trays out and dumped, and glasses ready.
Somehow, El Blanco Lobo was an infinitely better place than Jon's Burger Stop. At least when there was a weird smell or people were grade A deadbeats, they usually had an explanation in this place. Inebriation does that to a man. Or woman.
The music wasn't too loud. It wasn't that kind of young, "hip" place where not hearing each other speak was totally in, and having eardrums was totally out. It was frequented by your camping party just returned to town, by your worked six AM til eight PM and need to soothe some tight muscles before going to bed, no nonsense category of people. Here, when people were acting like perfect dingus', I could say so, and take away their bottle. It was a kind of power I had always wanted.
Right now we were setting up, doing inventory, polishing shotglasses and making sure everything was ready for the rush. The doors opened at six, but we didn't get busy until eight. I usually got here around five to help set up, after the walk from my other job. The Wolf, as I called it, was more in the center of Pinerich.
"Doors open in five," I called out over my shoulder, doing a final scan to make sure we had the sports channel set up, ash trays out and dumped, and glasses ready.
Quote from Adriana on November 26, 2019, 9:53 amJack was the owner here. A middle aged man with a young face-so he grew out a beard to look older but skimped on the mustache. He heard a dark mop of hair on his head and one arm was tattooed all over with pine trees and mountains, the other with different types of birds flying about. His eyes were a pond water hazel green, his skin was light and he had a great smile. He was a little more city than most guys you'd figure would run a bar in downtown Pinerich.
Jack's also mute. I think that makes it easier for us to get along, sometimes. "You have mouth enough for both of us", he would joke in his sloppy sign language hand gestures. He could hear fine, but his larynx was destroyed in a motorcycle accident. He claims he's Irish and could at one time belt out killer shanties. I just roll my eyes when he does, but it's probably true.
It made bar tending fun, too. We had to learn his hand gestures for every sort of drink under the sun- a customer would give him their order and he'd turn around and do some weird charade until we could guess what it is. He never let patrons get away with acting a fool, especially with the women around here.
Jack opened the doors to the bar, and alas, nobody entered. They'd file into the warmly lit, cabin esque bar over time.
Jack was the owner here. A middle aged man with a young face-so he grew out a beard to look older but skimped on the mustache. He heard a dark mop of hair on his head and one arm was tattooed all over with pine trees and mountains, the other with different types of birds flying about. His eyes were a pond water hazel green, his skin was light and he had a great smile. He was a little more city than most guys you'd figure would run a bar in downtown Pinerich.
Jack's also mute. I think that makes it easier for us to get along, sometimes. "You have mouth enough for both of us", he would joke in his sloppy sign language hand gestures. He could hear fine, but his larynx was destroyed in a motorcycle accident. He claims he's Irish and could at one time belt out killer shanties. I just roll my eyes when he does, but it's probably true.
It made bar tending fun, too. We had to learn his hand gestures for every sort of drink under the sun- a customer would give him their order and he'd turn around and do some weird charade until we could guess what it is. He never let patrons get away with acting a fool, especially with the women around here.
Jack opened the doors to the bar, and alas, nobody entered. They'd file into the warmly lit, cabin esque bar over time.
Quote from Deleted user on November 27, 2019, 9:14 amAnd so, slowly patrons rolled on into the bar. Time passed and as the sun set left the outside world darkened, what would now be a recognizable face to Robin from just earlier that day, entered the cabin esque bar.
“ What did you say this place was called again?” The familiar asain, still dressed in his leather jacket, inquired from one of the three others with him as they walked through the front doors.
" It’s called the ‘El Blanco Lobo’, whatever that means.” His friend Tom, a blonde several inches taller than Saber said, completely botching the pronunciation of the foreign words.
Saber smirked. Tom raised an eyebrow at his expression. “ What? You know what that means?”
“ Maybe,” Saber simply replied.
Tom rolled his eyes. “ Oh come on, don’t tell me you know Spanish too.”
Saber’s smirk got larger. “ Maybe.”
“ Of course he knows Spanish! Saber knows everything!” The ginger on the other side of the two enthusiastically stated.
" He doesn't know everything Riley." Tom snapped.
Alejandro, the fourth in their group, looked over at Tom." But he does know some Spanish. I've even had conversations with him in Spanish before."
Tom rolled his eyes looking annoyed now. " Okay already, just tell me what it means then. And no helping him Alejandro!"
Saber was still smiling, listening to his friends. " It just means 'The White Wolf'. I thought you might've picked it on purpose, but seeing you didn't even know what it meant," he shrugged, " I guess I was wrong."
Tom sighed roughly. " I just picked it cause we've never been here before." He then turned to Saber and pointed an accusing finger at him. " You better not eat or drink anything here so I don't have to find us another new location again!"
Saber just smirked at his flustered friend.
Tom looked exhausted now. " I'm going to go get a drink.." With that, he turned and made his way over to the bar table.
" Good thing he isn't driving us." Alejandro said as he watched Tom walk away.
Saber chuckled. " That's exactly why he isn't going to be driving. Not tonight anyways."
And so, slowly patrons rolled on into the bar. Time passed and as the sun set left the outside world darkened, what would now be a recognizable face to Robin from just earlier that day, entered the cabin esque bar.
“ What did you say this place was called again?” The familiar asain, still dressed in his leather jacket, inquired from one of the three others with him as they walked through the front doors.
" It’s called the ‘El Blanco Lobo’, whatever that means.” His friend Tom, a blonde several inches taller than Saber said, completely botching the pronunciation of the foreign words.
Saber smirked. Tom raised an eyebrow at his expression. “ What? You know what that means?”
“ Maybe,” Saber simply replied.
Tom rolled his eyes. “ Oh come on, don’t tell me you know Spanish too.”
Saber’s smirk got larger. “ Maybe.”
“ Of course he knows Spanish! Saber knows everything!” The ginger on the other side of the two enthusiastically stated.
" He doesn't know everything Riley." Tom snapped.
Alejandro, the fourth in their group, looked over at Tom." But he does know some Spanish. I've even had conversations with him in Spanish before."
Tom rolled his eyes looking annoyed now. " Okay already, just tell me what it means then. And no helping him Alejandro!"
Saber was still smiling, listening to his friends. " It just means 'The White Wolf'. I thought you might've picked it on purpose, but seeing you didn't even know what it meant," he shrugged, " I guess I was wrong."
Tom sighed roughly. " I just picked it cause we've never been here before." He then turned to Saber and pointed an accusing finger at him. " You better not eat or drink anything here so I don't have to find us another new location again!"
Saber just smirked at his flustered friend.
Tom looked exhausted now. " I'm going to go get a drink.." With that, he turned and made his way over to the bar table.
" Good thing he isn't driving us." Alejandro said as he watched Tom walk away.
Saber chuckled. " That's exactly why he isn't going to be driving. Not tonight anyways."
Quote from Adriana on November 27, 2019, 10:04 amI watched the four boys come in with a skeptically raised eyebrow as I popped the cap off a beer bottle for a patron already at the bar. There was one I recognized..
I watched the blonde one break away from the others and make his way up to the bar. I came up to him and leaned on the counter, pointing a finger in the direction of the familiar face, one eye shut for emphasis. "Your friend there want anything to drink, he'll need to show some ID." I said, then beamed a pearly white smile at the young man in front of me.
"As for you," I straightened, "My names Robin. What can I get you tonight?" my back was already turned as I spoke.
I watched the four boys come in with a skeptically raised eyebrow as I popped the cap off a beer bottle for a patron already at the bar. There was one I recognized..
I watched the blonde one break away from the others and make his way up to the bar. I came up to him and leaned on the counter, pointing a finger in the direction of the familiar face, one eye shut for emphasis. "Your friend there want anything to drink, he'll need to show some ID." I said, then beamed a pearly white smile at the young man in front of me.
"As for you," I straightened, "My names Robin. What can I get you tonight?" my back was already turned as I spoke.
Quote from Deleted user on November 27, 2019, 12:59 pmTom casted a glance towards his friends as Robin pointed, his hazel eyes looking wearied by her words." None of them are going to drink." He hoped not at least; One of them wasn't even legally old enough to...
Tom turned back to Robin and leaned against the bar table, breathing out another sigh as if it could relieve himself of all the weight he felt.
" Just give me an old fashioned whiskey." He said tiredly as he took a seat.
Tom wasn't a very tall fellow, only 5'10", with sandy blonde hair that was swayed to one side. His figure was slim, but with plenty of visible muscle on it. Tonight he wore a brown leather jacket and white shirt, dark denim jeans and loose brown boots. With how similar the twos attire was, Saber almost looked like a mini version of Tom, except he was Asian donning blacks instead of browns.
Tom's friends stalled on following him over, continuing to talk on how Alajandro would likely be driving them back home seeing as Riley didn't have a license yet. Saber however was distracted; His eyes had followed Tom and then noticed a familiar face on a stranger nearby. He watched her for a moment before moving on over to catch up with Tom, his friends soon noticing his movement and following behind.
Tom casted a glance towards his friends as Robin pointed, his hazel eyes looking wearied by her words." None of them are going to drink." He hoped not at least; One of them wasn't even legally old enough to...
Tom turned back to Robin and leaned against the bar table, breathing out another sigh as if it could relieve himself of all the weight he felt.
" Just give me an old fashioned whiskey." He said tiredly as he took a seat.
Tom wasn't a very tall fellow, only 5'10", with sandy blonde hair that was swayed to one side. His figure was slim, but with plenty of visible muscle on it. Tonight he wore a brown leather jacket and white shirt, dark denim jeans and loose brown boots. With how similar the twos attire was, Saber almost looked like a mini version of Tom, except he was Asian donning blacks instead of browns.
Tom's friends stalled on following him over, continuing to talk on how Alajandro would likely be driving them back home seeing as Riley didn't have a license yet. Saber however was distracted; His eyes had followed Tom and then noticed a familiar face on a stranger nearby. He watched her for a moment before moving on over to catch up with Tom, his friends soon noticing his movement and following behind.
Quote from Indy on November 27, 2019, 7:16 pmIs it possible to hate an entire city?
I didn't like the look of Pinerich just from driving in it. I'm sure it was an overreaction but there was something not right about it. Maybe it was the way the shadows cast near sunset or the quietness of everything around me. Maybe I'm overly judgemental of new cities. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow the city had eyeballs in the walls or something and was watching as I drove. Maybe it was just too close to home, so to speak.
I pulled over at a gas station and ordered myself a large coffee. The taste of hot dirt and water mixed together would probably be better, but beggars can't be choosers. I didn't sleep well again last night and I wasn't about to take a nap in my car now. Not for as long as I was in Pinerich. I took a slow sip from the parking lot, really more to do with stomaching the taste and trying not to think of what else was inside their coffee maker.
On a whim, I took the bathroom key from the bored clerk to freshen up. I grabbed some of my supplies from the car and stood before the a cracked, spotted mirror with a giant can of axe body spray. Axe body spray... now that's powerful stuff. Capable of covering the stink of any adolescent 13 year old boy with a powerful aroma of fermented basil and miscellaneous cleaning chemicals. I also discovered it fairly adept at hiding my own natural "odor" assuming I drowned myself in it. At the risk of wanting to gag and peel myself out of my own skin. But I was feeling unsettled by this town, and old habits died hard. If we ran into company, I wanted a little bit of time to grab Robin and run.
Swaying slightly from the wretched odor, I headed back to my car. I'd be smelling this stuff in here for weeks. I'm sure Robin would be making fun of me for longer than that. I started up the car and headed back down the road. I was maybe 10 minutes away from the bar. The sky had grown dark enough that I could see the first stars and the first street lamps came on. But even once it hit full darkness, the road would still be as clear as daylight to me. And that was the curse of it too -- I'd never doubt a strange shadow in the night as just my imagination, because very likely I'd seen whatever it was in perfect clarity.
Down the road, there was a figure walking. My headlights reached out like fingers in the night, casting a yellow glow on them. I squinted, trying to make out details of their form.
Is it possible to hate an entire city?
I didn't like the look of Pinerich just from driving in it. I'm sure it was an overreaction but there was something not right about it. Maybe it was the way the shadows cast near sunset or the quietness of everything around me. Maybe I'm overly judgemental of new cities. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow the city had eyeballs in the walls or something and was watching as I drove. Maybe it was just too close to home, so to speak.
I pulled over at a gas station and ordered myself a large coffee. The taste of hot dirt and water mixed together would probably be better, but beggars can't be choosers. I didn't sleep well again last night and I wasn't about to take a nap in my car now. Not for as long as I was in Pinerich. I took a slow sip from the parking lot, really more to do with stomaching the taste and trying not to think of what else was inside their coffee maker.
On a whim, I took the bathroom key from the bored clerk to freshen up. I grabbed some of my supplies from the car and stood before the a cracked, spotted mirror with a giant can of axe body spray. Axe body spray... now that's powerful stuff. Capable of covering the stink of any adolescent 13 year old boy with a powerful aroma of fermented basil and miscellaneous cleaning chemicals. I also discovered it fairly adept at hiding my own natural "odor" assuming I drowned myself in it. At the risk of wanting to gag and peel myself out of my own skin. But I was feeling unsettled by this town, and old habits died hard. If we ran into company, I wanted a little bit of time to grab Robin and run.
Swaying slightly from the wretched odor, I headed back to my car. I'd be smelling this stuff in here for weeks. I'm sure Robin would be making fun of me for longer than that. I started up the car and headed back down the road. I was maybe 10 minutes away from the bar. The sky had grown dark enough that I could see the first stars and the first street lamps came on. But even once it hit full darkness, the road would still be as clear as daylight to me. And that was the curse of it too -- I'd never doubt a strange shadow in the night as just my imagination, because very likely I'd seen whatever it was in perfect clarity.
Down the road, there was a figure walking. My headlights reached out like fingers in the night, casting a yellow glow on them. I squinted, trying to make out details of their form.
Quote from Mae on November 28, 2019, 1:34 amJust as concentration might've revealed the details of the person on the pavement, a 1986 faded blue convertible suddenly roared out of nowhere and cut off the view! The two front seats were occupied by a man in a collared shirt, and a woman with wild curls flying in the wind. Three other adults, two men and one brunette woman, sat on the back rim of the open convertible. One of the young men seated in the back flashed a rude gesture with his hand at the slower vehicle, and the other young man and woman in the back seat hollered and laughed!
The car sped on its way - right to the parking lot of El Blanco Lobo.
Just as concentration might've revealed the details of the person on the pavement, a 1986 faded blue convertible suddenly roared out of nowhere and cut off the view! The two front seats were occupied by a man in a collared shirt, and a woman with wild curls flying in the wind. Three other adults, two men and one brunette woman, sat on the back rim of the open convertible. One of the young men seated in the back flashed a rude gesture with his hand at the slower vehicle, and the other young man and woman in the back seat hollered and laughed!
The car sped on its way - right to the parking lot of El Blanco Lobo.
