Sorry Dude ...

I sat wondering why I was here, the odors were unpleasant and the music was loud. The constant pounding of the drums were enough to give you a headache. I motioned to the bartender and he came over.

“Sorry dude, I’m going off duty and I’ve cashed out. The next bartender will be right over.” I watched as he walked away and wondered why I couldn’t get a break. My life was slowly on a down hill slope. I had been layed off just yesterday and today my car broke down.

Dang! Where was that bartender? I stared at the bottom of the glass just day dreaming, when up walked this tall raven haired beauty. My eyes just about popped out of my head, ahhh, maybe a break at last.

“Hi there, I’m Misty, what will you have sir?” Now you know that I couldn’t really tell her what I would love to have, so I asked for a beer with a shot of whiskey and smiled. “You got it!” she said.

Misty came back with my drink, winked and with a smile said, “the first one is one me”. Then she had to serve someone else. I watched as she glided away like she was on air. Ahh, at least I have someone beautiful to look at while I’m here.
Misty would check on me like she was tending to a precious child. I felt special.

Misty had just left again, and a man with a harse look on his face walked in and nodded at Misty. He seemed upset and raised his hand to motion hurry up. Misty quickly walked over to him and they had a heated discussion for a few minutes, then he left.
Misty’s face had a stern look on it now. I motioned to her to order again, she nodded but was slow to move, she seemed anxious. I waited patiently.

Suddenly, there was a popping noise outside, gun shots! My feet hit the floor and I flew over the counter running to Misty, I knocked her down and tried to cover her, but she sprang up with a 38 Smith & Weston in her hand and jumped over the counter like it wasn’t even there.

After it settled down, Misty came over to check on me. I didn’t ask questions, I just thanked her and got up to leave, Misty handed me a card with her number on it.
As I got to my car I looked at the card.

It read;
Federal Bureau Investigations
Agent Misty Anderson
Washington, D.C.

Ann Warrenton

Sorry Dude ...

Ann  Warrenton

Joined February 2008

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Artist's Description

Short Story of intrique.

Featured 3/20/15

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