Wednesday November 18th, 2015

The exercise:

Write something that takes place in: the saloon.

We got the ultrasound results back today. Baby looks healthy, no concerns were raised. That's obviously the most important thing.

As for the gender... I think I'll save that for tomorrow's post. Feel free to give me your best guess in the comments though :)


"Is Tess working tonight?" I asked as I eased my weight onto the only empty stool at the bar. The dusty gentlemen on either side of me grunted hellos in my direction and I tipped by hat to both of them.

"You know she's not, Pete," Walter replied before giving a shot glass a cursory inspection and pouring a whiskey into it. "Monday is her day off."

"Yeah, I know," I said, putting an open hand sideways on the bar. It didn't take long for the glass to slide into my grasp. "I just like to make sure. It brings up bad memories for her whenever she sees me, and I hate doing that to her."

"Oh, is that right?" Walter had a way of talking to a man he didn't care for. It was a combination of insincerity and thinly veiled disdain. That's what he was giving me then. "I thought it was because she would warn off any ladies you might be trying to charm your way into the welcoming confines of their corsets."

"Well, dear Walter," I said as I raised my glass and give him a smile and wink, "that might have a little something to do with it as well."


Greg said...

Congratulations on the results of the ultrasound! That's reassuring news :) I can't guess the gender though, as I can't apply the old doctor's trick: verbal say one gender (before the gender is known) and carefully write the other down in a diary. Then when the gender is revealed if the verbal statement is correct the doctor is correct, and if it's wrong he shows the diary, "proving" that he said the right gender after all. That, and I seem to remember being told once that 'crocodile' isn't a gender.
There's some lovely storytelling in your work today, with the first and fourth paragraphs standing out especially for me. Feel free to add this piece to that list of stories you should continue!

The saloon
"Gentlemen," said a voluptuous woman with blonde curls down past her shoulders and nails painted carmine red. She was being generous, there was no way any of the roughly dressed, unwashed, unshaven men she was addressing could be described as a gentleman. "Welcome to my humble establishment, where I hope you will find the entertainment edifying." She had a drawl that had to come from somewhere in the American deep south.
"What'd she say?" asked one of them. He worked a pinky finger into his ear with a squeaking sound, and there was only a passing moue of disgust on the woman's face when she noticed that it wasn't his pinky finger.
"She said come on in, the beer's good," said the man next to him. He spat, missing the spittoon by too much for it to be any other than deliberate. Tar-coloured mucus puddled in the sawdust.
"That'll be a first!" cackled the first man. The pair pushed through the saloon's swing doors (installed to make it easier to throw people out through) and the next in line stepped up.
"Shanghai Suzie," said Ben, a grin on his face. "Is this where you've holed up now? Last time I saw you–"
"Shut it!" Suzie was curiously abrupt. "How the hell did you two find this place? And what've you done with Jimmy?"
"We were passing through," said Ben. A cigar appeared between his fingers as if like magic, and he starting patting his pockets, looking for a match. "Well, actually, we're not passing through yet, but it'll happen. We never seem to stay long in any one place."
"That's because you burn things down, or steal things, or sleep with other people's wives, or–"
"Ok," said Red. "You've read our rap sheet. Even so, I thought nunneries were more your style these days?"
The queue behind them was growing restive so Suzie leaned inside and hauled a man as broad as the saloon doors out. "Pat, let the guys with money in and keep the one's without without," she said. "I've got to go and have a chat with these two bad pennies. Mostly to make sure they don't set fire to the place, or try and sleep with it."
Ben looked hurt. "I've never tried to sleep with a building," he protested.
"Well, actually," said Red, a smirk creeping across his face.

Marc said...

Greg - crocodile? Lol.

Ah, thank you. I must admit that was one of my intentions when I began writing this one, so I'm glad I succeeded!

Haha, I figured you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to revisit How The Best Was Won on this prompt.

Also: that pinky finger detail is... remarkable :)