(Page 1 of 6) Untilted WIP by Dan Bieger
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SUMMARY: Posted to obtain feedback.She was at the bar not truly talking to Senor Viejo except for the usual amenities and her order. At first glance, she was nothing out of the ordinary, all the proper bits and pieces placed in all the proper places, a Buddhist dream of moderation in all things. Blonde, short hair, very short, more of the style that Hume Cronyn would wear playing Polonius, what most stylists would probably refer to as a pixie cut. Her dress fell into the pant suit category seeming a bit more practical in its weave than the polyester version while not quite achieving the full denim effect arriving somewhere in the vicinity of brushed cotton.
Howard would have left it at first glance if Howard had been anyone else but Howard. The fact that he wasn't anyone else prompted him to take the chair next to hers though the entire bar was vacant. There were two couples at tables but just Howard and this woman occupied places at the bar.
No sooner seated, Senor Viejo delivered him his drink. The woman noticed there had been no conversation to prompt the drink's arrival so she turned to Howard to ask: "You are a regular here, no?" Her eyes were that color that isn't truly blue and isn't truly green but can seem to be either depending upon the available lighting. In The Chapel, the lighting played more to emerald.
"And you're not, huh?" Howard answered. "Which would mean that you're not from around here as everyone from around here finds their way into The Chapel on a semi-regular basis."
"The bar is that good?"
"Yes, ma'am, it's that good. But, probably not for the reasons you might be thinkin'. First off, nobody thinks of this place as a bar. This is The Chapel an' it ain't nothin' else."
The blonde laughed. "You know what I'm thinking, then. I'm that transparent?" But, then, she turned more serious: "So, this place ‘ain't' a bar but it is The Chapel. Now, why would that be? What makes this establishment a spiritual retreat?"
Howard didn't laugh though he smiled ruefully: "Take's some explainin', ma'am. You got that kind o' time?"
It was the blonde's turn to raise an eyebrow while smiling ruefully: "I am a madam, then? Is that not the proper translation of this ‘ma'am' you insist on using?"
Howard was quick to preclude offense being taken: "No, m'am, it's just the way I learnt to talk. Don't mean nothin' but courtesy; that's all." Seeing that the woman had not taken offense, he plunged onward: "Folk like me get to talkin' natural without thinkin' if who we're yackin' at knows what it is we're tryin' to say. We just assume they will less'n we can they see they're foreigners. I didn't notice that you was. Are you? A foreigner?"
An answering rueful smile accompanied: "Yes, I suppose you could say that I am a foreigner though I suspect it might be more accurate to identify myself as an alien."
"Legal or otherwise?" was out of his mouth before he realized what he'd said. Her reply was instantaneous, as if she had dealt with the question many times and had prepared a standard reply: "Are those the only options available?"
"The only two I'm aware of," Howard said while his brain feverishly searched for an alternative, any alternative.
"Well, we could summon Senor Viejo.
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