Thursday, August 10, 2006

 

So it all started innocently enough; there I was, sitting at the bar polishing off the most recent in a series of beers provided by the smiling girl in the pink leather skirt. What was I doing there? Who knows.

Then this guy sits down on the stool next to mine, linen suit, dark glasses, real continental-like, and orders something foreign-sounding. The girl in the pink leather skirt smile faded just a little as she said she didn't know how to make it. Then he changed his order to a martini and her smile came back. Frankly, that was all I cared about right then anyway.

As the girl in the pink leather skirt sashayed off down the length of the bar, the foreigner leans over to me and whispers, "Have you ever considered becoming a bounty hunter?"

I have to admit, it caught me off guard. I mean, who the fuck talks like that to someone they never met? But right then, in the particular state of mind induced by darkness, cheap beer, and pink leather that I was in, it suddenly seemed like a damned fine idea. A fast car, sure. Guns, that would be a given. Trim, that would surely follow. So I guess you could say from that moment, I was in. But I didn't want to seem too eager, so I started off with, "Sure, who hasn't. Why?"

Linen Suit's lips pursed in a frown for a moment. "Not here. Too many people. Call me later." He passed me a card, threw a few bills on the bar, and left.

I looked down at the card. It was a light shade of brown, with that glossy sort of black lettering. D.T. Seraphin, it read. Taking Care of Business.

by Nyssa23 4:17 PM

 

taking care of business

by Nyssa23 4:17 PM