Mymavra.com - Pimp it your Way

  Completly frustrated, I kick at the partially opened door of Victor’s room. A shower and a bed for a few hours. It’s the least he owed me for the aggravation. I found the light switch with my left hand while keeping Peace Maker trained inward. The girl that I imagined turned out to be two. Both lay entangled in bed sheets passed out in oblivious stupor. I tipped my head, my eyes acknowledging their beauty for a moment as my nostrils flared at the reek combination of sex and booze.

  The partially opened door of the bathroom creaked. My shotgun came up, but my eyes stayed on the bed.

  “Get out here old man.”

  He came shuffling out with his hands up, level with those big blinking eyes. He stopped just outside the door his eyes torn between the scene on the bed and my fingers tension on the trigger.

  “Old man you caused me a lot of grief. I suggest you shuffle your way back across the street to your magazine.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice and began to move with more agility than I thought he was able.

  “And I expect my bike to be right where I left it when I get around to getting it.” I added over my shoulder. 

  I heard him pause at the door, probably stealing one last look, then continued on.

  I went to the bathroom, pleased that the majority of the party had not involved the shower and in fact the little soap, shampoo packets and a few clean towels were intact. I placed Peace Maker in the showers shelf and turned the water to a lukewarm spray. There was fresh blow residue on the little sink and contents of a women purse dumped on the floor, no doubt gone through by Romeo just prior his exit. I spied a half empty bottle of Black Velvet on the back of the toilet. I undressed, careful to place my pistol close at hand and took the bottle with me to the shower.

  For some time I stayed there letting the water and whiskey sooth my muscles. I was about to get out when a hand moved the shower curtain aside. My hand when to the shotgun. She stepped into the shower, her dark eyes acknowledging me but looking through me at the same time. She ignored the gun and put her hands around my neck mumbling something about me hogging all the water. I took my hand off the shotgun and decided to stay awhile.

  Some time later, I sat on the side of the bed, a towel around my waist debating if I should go get my bike or find some food to clear my head first when she stuck her damp head out of the bathroom.  

  “I can’t find my panties. They were right here on the back of the toilet were I left them this morning.” She lamented.  

  “I would check with the old man across the street.” I offered.

She looked confused and shrugged going back in. I rose from the bed to dress where the second girl lay sleeping in a curled position. Her dark and smooth skin in beautiful contrast to the white twisted sheet. This job does have its moments, I thought.

Miss coed shower emerged from the bathroom a minute later. The cool water had begun to ease her hang over and erase the stupor from her eyes. She had donned her own tight jeans leaving them undone at the top and minus a bra. She stood brushing her raven black hair smiled lightly and obviously enjoying my roaming stare. Seeing me tugging on my boots, she asked if I was going somewhere.

  I told her I needed to retrieve my bike parked behind the cabin and get some food before the café closed. I also offered to bring her and sleeping beauty some. She agreed but said they both needed to be at work in a few hours. Work, I found out was out on the highways junction of Route 24. There was a large truck stop there with everything a trucker or traveling man might need or want. Freddie’s, where they both danced was the want part.

I asked about Victor and she admitted they both had met him there and took up his offer to do a bit of celebrating. It seemed he recently had a run of good luck and didn’t seem shy about sharing it.

  “Yeah, I stopped to visit Victor about that topic myself. Damn shame he had to leave in such a hurry.” I grumbled.

  Ignoring my statement she tipped up on her toes and gave me a quick peck as I rose to leave.

  “Try and find a cold beer or two while you’re at it.”

I must have been giving her my famous pissed and annoyed combo because she quickly added a sweet “Please” with a cock of her head. I tried to hold my scowl as long as possible but caved with a quick grin as she winked at me while wiggled her butt in exaggeration back to the bathroom.

  I was glad that despite the announcing jangle of the bell above the door, nobody turned to look at me. I made my way down to the far end of the counter where an Indian in a black and blue checkered flannel sat contentedly slumped over his coffee and talking to the young cook through the order window. I took a menu from the stack leaned against the register and sat down beside him confident from my first glance I wasn’t turning my back to any threats. He ignored me and continued to carry on a very one-sided conversation with the cook about a sing for Eddie Long Horse on Black mesa that seemed to be ailing from a bad case of shingles. The chunky cook who could have passed as his daughter right down to the long single braid seemed to be ignoring him as well as he was me. I spotted the waitress exit from the back cooler in the kitchen with a tray of bagged salads.. She noticed me and gave a quick “I’ll be right there.” motion before covering and flipping of the overhead light on the salad bar against the far wall. She came back, acknowledging me with only a raised eyebrow as she poured more coffee for the Indian.

   “We are just about to shut the grill down for the night. What can I getcha?” in a Minnesota/ Sarah Palin accent while fishing a glass out from behind the counter and poured ice water into. I had settled on the buffalo burger and buffalo chips before she had arrived, but the sound of icy water hitting the bottom of the cheap, plastic glass had diverted my full attention to my thirst.

  I nodded toward the glass-fronted cooler behind her,

  “I’ll start with one of those six packs of beer.”

  Weary but pleasant eyes finally met mine. She was a woman whose days of being attractive were slowly being stolen by time. Perhaps a ranch wife by the bronze and lines in her face that only sun and wind can etch.

  “If drinking is what you have in mind, the bar’s just down the street.”

   I smiled, “No, I’m at the motel and need a couple of burgers and Beer to go.” I motioned with my thumb.

  Giving me her best but tired, “I’m sorry” smile, She took my order, fetched my six-pack and poured one into another glass.

Indian long braid still hadn’t stopped his conversation. It had gone from horse hoof treatments to when it might cloud up next but not rain. The funny part was the chubby little cook wasn’t even visible. I slid over one seat to give the damn conversation more space as I heard my burgers hit the grill with a hiss.  I took a sip and tried to tune out the prattle next to me. I had about ten minutes of relative peace except for the Chiefs endless drivel. I was trying to plan my next move in finding Victor but was starting to loose my train of thought as I found myself actually listening to his ramble. 

“Thought they were the strong silent type.” I mused in silence.

  As if slapped with my thought, he dried up mid sentence. I set my glass down and cocked my head. He still sat slumped, looking not directly at anything.

  “What the hell stopped his mou……………..?” My ponder was cut mid thought.

  The bell jangled and the slurred cocky voice blared from the door. Sadly, I picked up the glass and drained it rather than letting it slake my thirst one cool and earned sip at a time.

  “Where the hell are you Connie?”  Drawled the dick-head in the cowboy hat. He was in his late forties, judging by the color of his scruff.

  “Shit!” This was the cause of the tired look, the weary sadness in Connie’s eyes that I had observed. And looky here! Dick Head had a sidekick and it wasn’t Robin. In fact to keep it straight I immediately called him Little Dick due to the sneer and matching sweat stained cowboy hat. 

  “Why now!” I thought aloud, unaware of the disapproval shake of my head.

  Both dudes sauntered up to the register while scanning the diner.

  “Connie!”…………………………….. “ Damn it! Where the hell are you?”

  Out from behind the kitchen door slide Connie, with the perfect disenchanted look of a child caught in a game of hide and seek.

  “Dwight!” “What are you doing?  You know better than to come down here when you’ve been drinking!”

   By the look of the few remaining patrons who were fidgeting or hunkering lower in their booth, this was something they had seen before and wanted to avoid again if they could. The Chief sat stone still trying to become invisible as the waitress vs dickhead had him cornered between the register and lunch counter. Being only two seats down, I had swiveled left to face the escalating fray while trying to keep a casual appearance.

  The cook slid a to go box. I assumed was my burgers and fries onto the serving window.

  “Order up.”

  Connie was trying to ward off a drunken advance from Dwight while his sidekick stood by watching in amusement and she was unaware of cook’s soft announcement. The cook looked around nervously as if unsure what to do. She looked at the Chief, shrugged and    decided to give it another try. This time she hit a small bell at the same time as her announcement. The crisp, DING!, froze Dwight for just the second Connie needed to pull her arm from his grip.

  “Dwight, I have to serve customers!” she snapped while trying to get her hips slid over just enough to get past the register where she could spin and get the counter between them.

  Dwight, though drunk, saw her movements and pinned her against the register again while little Dick sneered and looked around to see who wasn’t minding their own business. Suddenly he seemed to notice me and that my back wasn’t turned in submission. He straightened a bit and hitched his belt while slowly sauntering over. Dwight had started his assault over again while Connie did her best to let him, due to the fact it made less of a scene. Little Dickhead stopped directly behind his partner with his hands on his hips.

  “Can I help you?” he spoke through a wide smile.

  I had been measuring him up as well as Dwight the moment they entered the door, and despite having graduated from asshole school with honors, neither were pushovers. Both were square of jaw and thick as the beef I sure they molested when helpless women weren’t around.

  “Not really. But I was hope’n you’re friend could free up Connie there so I could pay my bill and get my burger while it’s still hot?” I suggested.

  My deep resonate voice so close to Dwight’s forced romance stopped him suddenly. He looked at me and slowly straightened as my words registered. This gave Connie the chance to complete her swivel around the counter. Dwight’s head snapped at her movement then back at me in anger seeing he had lost the upper hand with her.

  His scowl deepened, as he looked me up and down obviously wishing I were a bit smaller.

   “You need to have some respect and Gott Damn patience when a man is talking to his wife.” he spit.

  “Ex wife” she quipped from the far end of the counter. “And don’t start anything Dwight, or I’m calling Tom!”

  “Shut up Connie, that deputy dog dickhead boyfriends of yours don’t scare me.”

  “Wow! What kind of looped western had I seen this story in before?” I thought 

  “Listen boys, I have the better half of a cold six pack right here,” I offered, turning to break out two beers from their plastic ring.

  “We aint interested in a beer with a fucking biker! Duuuude!” drawled Dwight while his sidekick swaggered closer snickering at the attempt to belittle me.

  I could see their confidence swell past any point of reason or compromise, like a pair of wolves deciding their odds together were better than fair in bringing down a lumbering elk despite its size.

  “Now gentlemen, language like that in”……... keeping one beer in a tight grip just below the rim in my left hand I slowly stood.

As I had hoped and expected, Dwight swept out his right hand in an attempt to shove me back before I could fully stand and square off. I simply caught its momentum with my own right hand jerking him forward while swinging a left roundhouse. The full beer can came in contact with the side of his head and had the same effect of a wrecking ball on rotting structure. He was half driven half collapsed into the register and the Chief. Before he had completely hit the floor I had swiveled and shifted my weight to my left leg to deliver a quick and powerful kick to the chest of his partner, but my Tae kwon do stance told him I was no typical bar brawler.

  Defiantly he dropped his chin making his neck even thicker but did put both hands palms up, just above his over sized buckle.     

  “Cool it man!” he whispered, obviously not use to backing down. “Just because Dwight….  He never finished, just tucked his thumbs behind that big buckle and backed up slowly.

  I lowered my stance and reached for my wallet as I heard Connie come up behind me and set my to go box down. I handed her twenty while not turning my back on Junior.

  “Keep the change. It’s going to take a while to get to that till.” I said glancing down at Dwight who lay out on top of the smashed register, his cowboy hat gone and a bright purple ring imprinted on his head. His Ear was already swelling and I knew it would be a while before he felt like a fighting again but I knew he would and would be coming to find me.

  “Tell him not to.” I spoke to his pal still standing with clenched jaw. “I do this for a living”

  I deliberately opened my jacket to expose my Glock 10 mm.

  “I wont fight next time. I’ll just shoot.”

  I turned finally to the counter and picked up the box and beer.

  Connie gave me a tired smile. “I’m sorry.” She simply said.

  “No worries. You might still call your deputy friend and have him keep an eye out. When he wakes up he is going to be sore about more than just his head.” I nodded at the heap on the floor.

  “Thanks.” She offered, then looking past me, “Dale would you please get your brother out of here..

  And so I left the drama diner with my late supper and headed back to the room feeling edgy. The little town of Brush was drawing on my last remaining nerve. I decided that it was best to clear out before any more agitations presented themselves. Despite an attractive offer by both the girls whose names I had already forgotten, I was back on the night highway where I belonged within an hour. My plan was simple. Ride the night, sleep the next day, and then pay a visit to Billy the kid in Black Springs. He would be less than enthused to see me again, but if persuaded, would cough up what I needed to know.

  Lost in rumbling thought, I rode into the night.