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Bars
she waited, :: goliard

stuck in some purgatorial excuse for a bar, sitting on a stool with one leg shorter than the rest, ordering another jack and coke while glancing at her phone to check the time just once more, agreeing to have her fortune read by the reformed drinker sipping his beer in the corner and flashing a deck of tarot cards dramatically: not that she believed in that nonsense, not one bit, but with the moon full and her mind downtrodden she fell prey to his charms and listened as the oldman explained…

    TAGS:  drinking, bars, fortune telling, tarot cards


“I’m trying to make you nervous, but it is not working,” lamented the lithe brown-eyed Parisian behind the bar pouring me a whiskey; “Honey, you are going to have to work a lot harder than that; I’ve never been made nervous by an attractive man standing behind a bar and offering me ‘whatever I like.’”

    TAGS:  mouse, Bunni, attraction, bars, lament, tease, Parisian


"Inadvertent musicians and elderly prostitutes and prestidigitators and Pentecostal preachers and students resembling mechanics and doctors conducting diagnoses in nightclubs and young journalists already retired and transvestites and second-foot shoe peddlers and porn film fans and highwaymen and pimps and disbarred lawyers and casual laborers and former transsexuals and polka dancers and pirates of the high seas and seekers of politicial asylum and organized fraudsters and archeologists and would-be bounty hunters and modern day adventurers and explorers searching for a lost civilization and human organ dealers and farmyard philosophers and hawkers of fresh water and hairdressers and shoeshine boys and repairers of spare parts and soldier’s widows and sex maniacs and lovers of romance novels and dissident rebels and brothers in Christ and druids and shamans and aphrodisiac vendors and scriveners and purveyors of real fake passports and gun-runners and porters and bric-a-brac traders and mining prospectors short on liquid assets and Siamese twins and Mamelukes and carjackers and colonial infantrymen and haruspices and counterfeiters and rape-starved soldiers and drinkers of adulterated milk and self-taught bakers and marabouts and mercenaries claiming to be one of Bob Denard’s crew and inveterate alcoholics and diggers and militiamen proclaiming themselves “masters of the world” and poseur politicians and child soldiers and Peace Corps activists gamely tackling a thousand nightmarish railroad construction projects or small-scale copper or manganese mining operations and baby-chicks and drug dealers and busgirls and pizza delivery guys and growth hormone merchants, all sorts of tribes overran Tram 83, in search of good times on the cheap." [Note: only 256 words, but I'm declaring it an honorary 500-word challenge participant since they were such great words -mouse]

    TAGS:  guest scriner, 500 words, bars


 

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