2011 by Peggy Buxton
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Saloon and Shirley
Bridge Over Troubled Waters
By The River
Room For Rent
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Hot, parched, in need of at least a beer, I crutched into the darkened bar and though the blue haze of cigarettes and reek of old beer. I was surprised that it would be so busy at nearly three in the afternoon. Maybe everyone else was thirsty I thought. The stool scraped across the floor in a loud symphony of un-tuned instruments. I rested my hips on it then leaned my crutches against the edge of the bar.
"What can I get ya?" the lovely lady asked as I stared at the ample cleavage staring back at me.
I scanned the drinks resting on the bar then looked back into her blue eyes. "Whiskey...up."
"Hey Shirley!" a man at the end of the bar yelled. She glanced at him with an expression that said to wait a while.
"You're new around here. I'm sure I'd-d remember you-u." The words drawled forever in a slow southern twang.
"Jake. I guess you're Shirley." I smiled and leaned a little closer to her cleavage. "Nice," I whispered.
"Let me get your drink, handle Mack down there, and maybe I'll let you chat me up." She giggled and walked away. I watched, stripped her naked, and liked what I found.
When she put the drink down, I noticed low-cut part of her blouse rearranged to better show her breasts to me. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples pounded the fabric. I was ready to help the poor things. I laughed to myself as I wrapped my fingers around the glass then held it a few inches off the bar then looked deep into the valley.