Congratulations Girl in a White Leather Jacket!

You’re going to walk into the bar in the middle of the day today with a suitcase on your shoulder and boots made for riding on your feet.

“Get it,” you’ll say with a nod to the bartender who, in turn, will slide you’re a whiskey, neat.

“Got it,” he’ll snip back with a two finger salute.

You’ll turn around and take in the bar.  Every last person there will have their head down in their drink except us.  We’ll be sitting there in the corner, trying to write some bullshitty prediction about some sumbitch what hardly knows his asshole from the internet, and probably lives in a dimension where this shit don’t even post.  You’ll see us, see that we don’t look like a total waste but still look like we could use a good fucking, and you’ll walk over to us.

“Mind if I sit down?” you’ll say.

We won’t know how to respond at first, so we’ll just nod and you’ll laugh, a tinny, lilting thing, and settle in across from us.

“Whatyoodoon?” you’ll drawl.

We’ll explain that we’re writing about things in the future.

“Sounds fancy,” you’ll murmur into your whiskey before draining in a single gulp and then nodding back at the bartender.  He’ll shake his head and start pouring two glasses.

We’ll explain that it’s not, but we needed some way to keep ourselves together after losing our terrible office jobs.

“Times if tough,” you’ll agree as the whiskeys are set down between us.  Then you’ll push one in our direction and motion for us to drink with you. 

You’ll take your whiskey down in one smooth swig.  We’ll choke on ours sheepishly.

A smile will curl at the edge of your lips.

“You look like you could use some help,” you’ll drawl with a quick wink.

We’ll ask your name.

You’ll respond.

“Trouble.”

Congratulations Girl in a White Leather Jacket!