“your words fall heaviest when burdened with deception. words of honesty however, tend to lift on wings of admiration, hope, and modesty. these words are of relief, and frees the soul trapped within chaos and doubt”
Quian slopped his arm over the shoulder of a random bar patron sitting to his left, “I tell you what, she lifted that car off the crane operator as if it were made of cardboard.” He took another swig of his rum.
Looking creepily into the eyes of the patron to his right, Quian hiccupped and continued, “just lifted the sedan up, heave-ho, and tossed it behind her. Cardboard I tell ya’ flippin’ cardboard how she dealt with it!”
He stumbled over to the bar and placed his now empty cup on the counter. “Fill ‘er up now,” he commanded. Turning back to the heckling bar patrons Quian continued speaking about the heroic adventures of his wife, “I have watched bullets bounce off this woman. Even saw her deflect a missle once. It’s totally insane.”
“How is the sex with your super babe?” one of the patron’s shouted.
Unoffended, “the absolute best I think any man could ever get!” Kicking back another shot, “it’s like being with a goddess of passion and lust,” Quian boasted. “And I sure ain’t worthy of it,” he added.
“Mr. Horne, please take your seat,” the bartender requested. “Take a load off and just enjoy your night for once.”
Quian stumbled over to the bartender and slapped down a twenty, “you just keep bringing drinks!”
He stumbled back to a stool, nearly falling to the floor as he attempted to mount the seat. Not once did he falter with the story he wished all in the bar to know, “I mean, seriously, how did I end up with her, this powerhouse of a feminie vigilante? I am nothing more than a call center nobody.”
Quian kicked back three drinks with a speed that should have been an extraordinary ability. He stumbled to the other end of the bar, closest to the door, “how did I get so blessedly cursed?”
“I tell you what fellas, she is the hottest most curvacious woman I have ever met, and she all mine!” Donni Koldlin boasted.
“We met at a symposium that I was the guest speaker for,” Donni continued. “She told me that my charm had shone through my passion for what I do.”
“What is it that you do again, Don?” a random bar patron asked.
Donni thought the man a nobody, so he ignored the question and continued, “I still remember what she wore.” He looked around the bar and realized that the guys were actually listening to him; they were truly captivated by his tale of how he and his wife had met. He smiled at his self.
“I tell you what, it was a tight smoke grey miniskirt if memory serves.” Donni took notice of how the guys did not get excited about a grey skirt. “No, red miniskirt and smoke grey blouse, with a leather overjacket. The skirt was so short it could make the Pope blush!”
One of the patrons let out a cheer, which made the others chuckle at him. But Donni had the guys interested.
“You got a pic right?” asked the same nobody from before.
Donni frowned, unable to hide how displeased he was with this jerk. “Of course I do!” he assured the fellas.
Before Donni continued with telling the storing again, the stranger intervened once more, “can we see it? The pic of your wife, I wanna see it!”
“Hey creep, you ain’t seeing anything.” The guys grumbled in protest. Who is this asshole, Donni asked himself.
With a blur of his arm he pulled a wallet-sized image from his coat, whisked it past gauking bar patrons, and slid it back to his pocket. “Satisfied creeper?” Donni questioned.
Hmph was all he got back in return. Donni continued the tale, “the honeymoon night was fantastic, but I don’t kiss and tell.” Donni bumped elbows with a guy further down the bar, filled with tentative listeners.
Donni assured himself that the guys were envious of his big city success. Coming from a backwater town that no one in the world knew about, yet landing such a catch, meant Donni was the man to be envious of. “That’s right boys, little town nobody Tiny Don Koldlin is moving on up in the world!”