* The sixth story in my erotic Shorts collection.
*
I parked my bike at the solitary bar in the pouring evening rain, stepped off onto the wet dirt surface glittering from the neon signs shining above the front door, and pulled the driving goggles from my head. The long back road I had followed all day was as empty as when I took it, and vanished into the dark at either end like a wet, black ribbon. I took the canvas cover for my bike from the pouch attached below the front light, and pulled it over my bike.
Once more I looked around into the murky dark while the rain surrounded me with white noise, and water dripped from my eyebrows onto my cheeks. Faint lights from a small town pierced the rain some way farther down a side road, and I figured it belonged to one of the large power stations located in remote areas like this. Not that it actually owned it, but if the plant closed down for one reason or another, the town would as well. I turned to the bar, the bright beacon calling out to drink and be merry, drown your sorrows, or forget reality for a while. Drowning was always my strong suit.
I stepped through the worn front door and the faded curtains behind it into the dimly lit drinking hole, the smell of booze and beer and a touch of easy meals familiar to my nose, just like the old rock music drifting in the background of the television spewing the latest headlines and asinine comments from news casters.
The barman behind the dark wooden counter adorned with a brass foot rail, not fazed by a new face, gestured with a nod to the side of the door. 'Hang your stuff there to dry.'
I looked at the coat racks on the wall and the heater underneath it, and nodded my thanks to him. The warm draft rising from the heater wasn't too hot to burn my long coat and my leather chaps, and I hung them spread out to take full advantage of the warm air.
The cushioned bar stools were comfortable enough to use for the time it took to drink some beers and have a bite to eat. The barman, at a ripe age to have seen anything walk into a bar, joke or not, turned off the television with a mutter about the average intelligence level of people and a frown that hardly showed on his wrinkled brow, and turned to me. 'What can I get you?'
'Coffee, to start with.'
He gestured at the pot behind him. 'Less than an hour old, if you don't mind.'
I nodded. 'A mature age. No sugar or milk.'
He poured a big mug. Didn't use the smaller cups on the shelves above the coffee maker. I liked him already. 'Thanks.' I said when he put it down before me.
'Shame to let it go to waste.' he said and began noting down his inventory.
I sipped it while I studied the pub food menu written in chalk on a blackboard next to the doorway into the kitchen. 'Can I still get a bite?'
He looked up from his notepad. 'What did you have in mind?'
'The spicy chicken bits.' I said. 'Seems that won't take too much effort.'
He chuckled. 'Indeed. It only takes twenty minutes.'
I held up the mug. 'Plenty of time to begin with beer after this.'
While the sounds of the preparation of my solid sustenance came from the kitchen, I glanced at the end of the bar against the wall, and the young woman with curly blonde hair hiding behind a book in that corner. I knew the book by title, not content. I had noticed her when I came in, but ignored her presence until I had settled in enough to feel comfortable. In my experience, it also gave women the time to determine if I was a threat or not.
I ordered a strong double craft beer when I finished my coffee, which was as expected before the barman placed a big plate in front of me with chicken wings and small legs, grilled to a crispy red brown shine. 'You're in luck.' he said and added a bread basket with a few thick slices. 'The bag was about to expire officially, so I grilled everything in it.'
I chuckled. 'Must be my lucky day, apart from the rain.'
He grinned a little. 'Well, the rain brought you here, didn't it?'
I pointed my finger at him. 'You have a point there.' I said, and chomped on the first wing, its spicy aroma filling my nose and heating up my mouth.
While I expertly cleaned the meat from the small bones, I noticed the blonde glancing more and longer at me over the top of her book. The barman came out of the kitchen and I gestured with my head towards the blonde. 'I think the lady might be hungry for some of this, and possibly a drink since I see no glass in front of her.'
He laughed once. 'Don't worry about Sarah.' he said and smiled at her. 'She's like a stray cat. Just hanging around here most of the time reading books. I don't mind the company on slow days and nights.'
I chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him in a mock pout. 'I see now.'
She gazed again at me while he picked up a crate of bottles and returned to the kitchen. 'You're him, aren't you?' she said and raised a book that lay next to her on the bar. One that I knew not just by title, but also by content. Very well. And I knew the photo of the author on the back equally well.
I sighed. 'Yeah, 'fraid so.'
