A yawn shouldn't be able to startle patrons of a popular bar, or so Peter had said years ago. But tonight was a crowd going against the rule. No baseball game, no football game, and no hockey game meant no one would be coming apart from the regulars and the depressed. Christmas had come and gone as had New Years leaving the depression the grey days January brought. He braced himself for the worst and couldn't stop smirking when the best case scenario walked in mumbling about the damn Christmas decorations still being up.
Walt came in just about every week since Peter and his brother, Christopher, had opened the bar. C&P had a good following in the community and Walt was their good luck charm, or so Christopher always quipped. He walked in on the first day, drank his beer, told a story or two, picked the best barstool and became a permanent fixture at the bar.
While Walt would steadily nurse a pint, Peter generally would be treated with the most amazing stories of Walt's colorful past. Peter figured he was getting a little lonely at home. Walt's wife had died about a year and a half ago and he was rapidly approaching sixty all alone. So the number of social visits to the bar had begun to increase just to keep tabs on his favorite barkeep.
"Hey, Old Man." Peter poured a pint of Walt's favorite beer and placed it at his usual barstool. "How's life?"
"For an old man, life is good. You get to sit in the park and look at the pretty ladies without getting arrested, discounts for all your favorite vices, and enough stories to drive an insomniac to his bed. How is life on the other side of the bar?" Walt began his long ritual of nursing his drink and munching on the free peanuts.
"Okay. Chris is off tonight and I haven't much to do." Peter gestured at the ten or so occupants quietly indulging in solitude. "And Chris was talking the other day about hiring some help for the crazy amount of people that come here." Somehow Walt found this amusing and was cackling his old-man laugh when the door to the bar opened.
The wind swept in as Peter spotted a young woman and a man come in. They looked around and grabbed a small table. She carried a large black book and he seemed to be familiar with her as he began chatting gaily. Her blonde hair hung around her shoulders in a natural, unkempt way almost as if she were hiding from someone while her clothes made a statement. It screamed "Sexy in pajamas" to Peter.
"I'm so glad you decided to do something I told you to – it shows some type of respect for my judgment that I find so endearing." The man smiled roguishly.
"Don't give yourself so much credit. Maybe I just want to avoid talking to you," she countered.
Peter looked at the girl and forgot to breathe for he didn't know how long. She seemed so sad but the melancholy expression did nothing to mar her pretty features or distract Peter from gazing at the rest of her body appreciatively. Strangely he couldn't help but dislike the man she was sitting with – they must have come here for a business meeting and/or a quick date. Tall, dark, and handsome was the summation.
Either she is unattainable or I'm going to have some competition.
