You asked for some more #f_ckyeahBen. Dont say I never listen. “Shit.” I shoved at the drunken twit’s chest, trying to get him off of me. “Move it.” Like my words had suddenly grown super powers, the dickhead flew backward into the crowd, landing sprawled on his ass several meters away. Whoa. How about that. I gazed in slack jawed wonder. Then, into the wide open space in front of me stepped Ben. Crap. “Hey,” I said, setting my now empty glass on the bar. “Hi.” His forehead was all wrinkly, mouth a severely straight line. Oh dear, he did look angry. I’m certain his normally short, neat beard didn’t usually look so bushy and barbaric. Had he been carrying a spear and dressed in furs, it would not have surprised me. “How you going?” Still nothing from him. “Did you want something to drink? I was just about to move onto another club, but if you’d like to hang here for a while that’s fine with me.” He set a hand on the bar either side of me, fencing me in. “Having a good night?” I asked. “Not really. Been looking for you.” “That’s sweet. But you didn’t need to do that.”
Posted on: Thu, 06 Nov 2014 02:32:59 +0000