Unwind
I headed straight for the bathroom which smelled about as wonderful as you'd expect. One guy was straddling the wall, his piss barely making it in the urinal. He was humming a jingle coherent enough to be familiar, though I couldn't place it.
"Watch your aim there, pal," I remarked.
He offered a thumbs up, keeping with his tune. I’m at the mirror. My hair was greasy, face unshaven. Up to code for a fine establishment such as this. I turned on the faucet and splashed myself with water before letting out a deep sigh. Another guy came in, fairly tall, prim, sporting a suit.
"Showoff," I quipped.
He continued into a stall, unbothered, as I made my way out and to an empty table. It was busier than usual.
"What'll it be, handsome," the waitress asked me.
"Tell me something." She leaned in. "Does everyone here always live up to the stereotype?"
"Bunch of losers drinking their lives away?"
My eyes bugged a moment, "Ah, so you understand."
"Sorry," she chuckled. "My Dad was an alcoholic. I have little respect for the clientele."
"And yet, you work here?"
"I get good tips."
I believed it. Aside from being a woman, she was young, attractive. Her long, dark hair cascaded to the small of her back, skin sun-kissed and, to ensure one's fully entranced, beautiful brown eyes.
"You sellout."
"How much do you make at your job as a, don't tell me, nondescript office drone?"
"This ‘office drone’ does pretty okay," I said, wrestling with a peanut from the basket on my table.
"Is that so? Mm. Judging by your hygiene, you probably just got off of a double-shift. Either that or a bender, though, you don't seem like a drunk, babbling moron just yet."
Oh, she's good. Can't let her know that, though.
"You're what, 23?"
"Asking a girl her age. You're what, single?"
"You must be in college. My guess is the medical field. Lot of pretty young things with chips on their shoulders taking up residence there."
"What is it you were saying about clichés?"
"Oh, come on. Me?"
She put her hands on her hips and adopted a manly tone, "I'm not like other guys. I'm clever and rugged."
"Let's recap. So far you've called me handsome and rugged."
"Right. I don't say that to every man that walks in here."
I peered over her shoulder to notice another man in a suit, gazing at me, accompanied by his friend from the bathroom.
"Hey. You gonna order or what?"
"Uh, yeah. I'll… take a beer."
"Any particular kind, or...?"
"People order 'just a beer' all the time," I insisted.
"Only in the movies. In the real world, you need to be specific."
"Surprise me." She rolled her eyes and walked off. Rather than watch her go, as I'm sure she expected a lowly dog like myself to do, I remained transfixed by the wannabe Blues Brothers at the bar.
"Hey, bud." The back of someone's hand started lightly tapping my arm. I turned to see what looked like a teenager sitting with his friends.
"Mhm?"
"Bro, you gonna tap that?"
I frowned, "Nah, it'd be too weird."
"Why," he asked, his whole table now listening in.
"She's my sister. But you can have a crack at her."
"For real, man?"
"Women love guys with fake IDs."
"Mine's not–
"KitKat!" I yelled, causing confusion. "The drunk using the urinal, you probably know him, that's what he was humming."
"Ok, well, I'm gonna turn back to my table now."
"Bummer."
"Uh, just one more thing. You don't look like her."
"What?"
"Well, if you're siblings, shouldn't you… look kinda the same?"
"Nope. She's adopted. Just doesn't know it yet."
"Your beer is here," the waitress informed me, tone indignant.
"Gotta go." The kid slowly turned back around to confer with the group. Murmurs of me being 'a total weirdo' and 'probably a stoner' could be heard.
"I'm not your sister."
"Ah, eavesdropping. Not cool. That knocks a dollar or two off."
"You think you're clever, don't you?"
I shrugged. She then placed a piece of paper on the table next to my drink and slid it forward.
"The receipt? Have I been that unpleasant?"
"Read it." An uneasy smile took her face. It read, 'run'.
"Seriously? I'm not the one trying to pose as 21. That'd be John Smith back there," I said, motioning my hand behind me.
"What the fuck, bro," he barked. I grinned.
"See those two well-dressed guys at the bar?"
I looked over once more to notice they both were staring a hole right through me.
"They asked me to give you this."
"I–
"Look, I got my own shit to deal with. Whoever, whatever you are, just leave me alone."
She quickly walked off and into the back room through a swinging door. Snickers emanated from behind me.
"Nice one, bro."
My chest tightened a bit as I stood up. Instead of bolting, however, I made a beeline for the pair. "Run? What the hell is this?" With a cool confidence, they maintained silence. "Yo, Jake. Elwood. The fuck?"
"Do as the lady said," ‘Elwood’ instructed, covertly flashing a gun from inside his coat. I cleared my throat, chuckling nervously.
"Shit," I whispered to myself before hastily making my way back to the entrance.
The air outside was humid even with the sun having set. A woman was clicking her lighter, trying to ignite her cigarette. The music from inside could still be heard along with laughter, glasses clinking, stories being shared. Who am I to warrant this? Why does anyone give a fuck about me? I hurriedly plucked the keys from my pants pockets and hit the button on my remote to unlock the doors. It wasn't until I got close that I noticed my tires had been slashed. "Oh, Jesus. Come on!"
"HELP!" A blood-curdling scream pierced the night, that of the waitress.
"Please, someone!" It was coming from behind the building. Without hesitation, I sprinted in her direction. As I turned the corner into the back alley, she was standing there, a devilish grin on her face. "To your knees."
My mouth ran dry. The two men stepped forward from the darkness, both holding pistols, taking their place on either side of her.
"To your knees," the goon from before echoed. "Now." My breath trembling, legs nearly numb, I collapsed onto the pavement. Images of my son began to fire in my head. He was with my ex-wife until tomorrow, the weekend. It's supposed to be my turn. We were gonna go to the zoo.
"What is it, huh? Daddy issues? You think I'm cliched?"
"Shut up, already. Drop the act. You use humor to hide your pain, it's so boring. And the worst of it is, pretty boy... you're not all that funny."
"I said, to your knees!" the same suit yelled before whipping the back of her head with his gun.
She let out a soft grunt before falling to the ground. The other threw her over his shoulder with ease, loading her into a white van. They motioned for me to follow suit. Completely at a loss, I rose to my feet and began to slowly traipse forward, hands in the air. As I passed them, I got my own thump to the head, rendering me unconscious. Nothing like a cold beer to unwind.
