Indefinite Length, Part 4
5. Apr. 2018
The man who sits alone at the second booth on the left just inside the main entrance to Your Friendly Neighborhood Bar & Grille(TM) has sandy-blonde hair, a thick set of matching blonde eyebrows, and an old, beat up pair of transition-lens glasses that still show a bit of gray, unable to fully clear up anymore. He had ordered a coffee, a water, and a slice of key lime pie two and a half hours ago, paid his tab, and refused any offers of refills. The waitresses thought the poor guy had been stood up at first, but as the time ticked by and other patrons emptied out, they began to worry for themselves instead. A trio of them goes to Charlee with their concerns.
"Boss, do you see that man over there at table 2?" asks the short brunette.
"He's been here ALL NIGHT," moans the tall, thin one.
"No, he just had coffee," the short one replies.
"Yeah, but that was like, a hundred years ago," says the one with the dark, round face. "He's just sitting there."
Charlee takes a longer look at the man. "He mess with anybody?"
The girls look at each other and shrug. "No?" says the short one, her voice rising. "But I mean, it's weird."
Charlee nods. "Ok, I'll keep my eye on him. It's fairly dead in here so if you want to clock out now and leave together, go ahead." The girls agree and walk off, chatting in hushed tones.
Closing time approaches, and as the last barflys settle their tab and the kitchen staff begins to clean up, Charlee walks over to table 2.
"Everything ok for you tonight, sir?"
The man grins. "Doin' good. You free now?"
"Closing up soon, right? Got a minute to chat now that you're not busy?"
Charlee blinks. "Do I know you?"
"Oh sure," the man replies, extending his hand for Charlee to shake. "Johnny, Johnny Facenda."
Charlee's hand raises of its own accord. They shake hands, and Charlee sits opposite him in the booth. The world shrinks around them, the single pendant light hanging above the table is the only lumination in the galaxy now, and a low hum drowns out all other sound, and thought, and reason.
You know this man.
|Indefinite Length, Part 4 -- Kim Breeding-Mercer|
IN WHICH: The waitresses thought the poor guy had been stood up at first, but as the time ticked by and other patrons emptied out, they began to worry for themselves instead.
© KIM BREEDING-MERCER / OgFOMK ArTS -- 2018 All Rights Reserved. - "Indefinite Length, Part 4"
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