An Encounter

This was normally a working/drinking man's tavern and the few females who frequented the establishment tended to favor peroxide and rayon. So I kept my eye on her from the first, getting my mug of Miller from the bartender and slipping off to one side by the jukebox. She was just sipping on what looked like a liquid cocaine and sitting on her stool, wedged in between a mute sailor and a behemoth of a biker with "KC Sons" colors on the back of his oil-spotted denim jacket. They paid her no mind though, too intent on their own imbibitions, so I made note to myself to watch and wait.The... https://tommygun4142324.weebly.com/