"What a fucking wasted weekend,β Brad said to himself as he walked down the street in this little hick town along the coast of this southeastern state. He only had one more night and then he was going to ship out in the morning. He hated getting on that damn ship but the United States Marine Corps didn't really give a big rat's ass what he wanted. It's not that he didn't like the military life, in fact it was his first love. The thing is that it meant 3 months without any action. He was hoping that there would be no action while he was in the Marines, but he sure had thought the uniform would give him the kind of action that wanted. And that action of course was a woman to make love to. Oh sure, there was action to be had when he reached the coast of Spain, but then he would be going to some mid eastern country and they weren't even allowed to look at the women there!
Brad stopped and looked at his surroundings. "What a dump," he said as he continued to walk down the street. He looked at his timepiece and frowned. The hour was getting later and later. He wished by now that he had just gone to the bars close to the base. There were women near the base, women that would bed a soldier, but he didn't want a hooker or a woman who was just interested in him just because the uniform impressed them. What he wanted was a woman who was turned on by him and not the uniform.
Brad stood at the corner waiting for the light to change so he could cross the intersection when he heard music. He looked to his left and he saw a flashing neon sign in a storefront window. Well, he might not have had any luck with the women tonight, but he had never found a beer that turned him down! He turned and walked towards the bar and the music got louder. The music was upbeat and he had heard that style on the oldies station at the base. It was not what he normally listened to, but it was pleasant enough so he opened the door and walked inside.
The decor of the bar was something out of the 1930's. It had a couple of tables with some chairs that looked like they had been through hell and back and the old time oak bar with the matching wooden bar stools. Brad sat down at a table and a waitress walked up to him. "What'll it be cowboy?" she asked him. Brad looked up and saw a pretty young black woman who looked to be in her mid 20's smiling down at him.
"I'll take some milk."
"Milk?" the girl asked.
"Yeah," he said, "but give it to me in a dirty glass!" Brad grinned at the girl and she smiled back at him suddenly realizing that he was pulling her leg. "I'll have a Corona miss," he said.
The girl smiled, her pearly white teeth glistening in the mellow light. "Ain't gonna get no Corona in this bar cowboy. You got a choice of either Bud, Bud Light, Busch or Miller Light."
"Well then, give me a Miller Light ma'am," he told her. She nodded and walked the few steps to the bar, grabbed a bottle and after opening it, returned to the table and set it on a napkin.
Brad sat there and sipped his beer. The cool fluid went down his throat and it felt so refreshing. He had almost finished it when he motioned to the waitress for one more. She walked to the table and Brad smiled at her, for the first time noticing the little girl look that she had about her. "Thank you darling," he said taking in the beauty of her brown eyes.
"You're welcome cowboy," she said, winking at him as she turned and went back to her duties. Brad watched her cute little butt as she walked back to the bar. "Damn nice," he thought to himself as he sipped his beer. Brad listened to the music until it stopped. He got up and walked to the jukebox and put some change in it. He ran his finger along the front, trying to decide what to play when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Brad turned around and there was a rather large black man standing there glaring at him.
"Can I help you sir," he asked?
"Yeah. I don't think there's gonna be your kind of music on OUR jukebox white boy."
"My kind of music?" Brad asked, pretending to look confused. He looked the man in the eye and like he was trained in his special services training, he was prepared for trouble.
"Yeah YOUR kind of music white boy!" Brad looked at the man hovering over him. He was quite a bit larger than Brad's 5'7β frame, but not once in his life had he run from a fight.
"I didn't know I had any particular kind of music SIR!" Brad said, not backing down.
"Well, there ain't no hillbilly hick shit on this jukebox for sure!" the man said.
"Look sir," Brad said not raising his voice. "I just came in here for a beer and I don't want any trouble. Ok?"
"Well then you should have thought 'bout that before you came in here flirting with our women!" the man said.
Brad felt his anger build up. What the hell was this guy's problem? He was not looking for a fight but if a fight was what this man wanted, he damn sure was going to give it to him. "I'm going to ask you one more time sir," he said, "please leave me alone before I have to rip your head off and stick it up your black ass."
Brad watched as the man clenched his fists and he knew now that this problem was not going to go away. Brad calmly pulled his shirt out of his trousers and started unbuttoning it. The man glared at him as he pulled his shirt off. The muscles on Brad's arms were finely tuned and although he was much smaller than the man standing in front of him, he knew that he could win the fight if he didn't loose his temper.
"Looks like you're about to get an ass whipping boy," the man said as he squared off, getting directly in Brad's face. Brad could feel the breath of this man on his face and his breath reeked of alcohol. As quick as lightening, Brad put his hands on the man's chest and pushed him back. The man clenched his fists and was getting into position to fight when he felt a searing pain on the back. Brad was taken back by the sound and for a minute let his guard down.
"Aaarrrggghhhhh," the man cried, turning around and seeing the young black waitress standing behind him with an old-fashioned razor strap.
"Damn it Leroy. What the hell do you think you are doing?" she yelled at him.
"I'm sending this white boy packing." he said, the pain subsiding.
The girl swung the strap again and it landed across his chest. Leroy reeled back in obvious pain as the girl hit him. "You're doing no such thing Leroy! Now you just pick up your shit and get out of this bar." The man glared at her and she reared the strap back and glared back at him. "I mean it Leroy, just get the fuck out right now!"
Leroy gave her a shitty look and turned and walked to his table and picked up his coat and went out the door. "Bitch!" she heard him yell as the door shut behind him.
The girl laughed as she heard the tinkling of the bell on the door. "Thank you ma'am. I can take care of myself but I appreciate being taken up for like that." The woman smiled at him making direct eye contact with him. Brad felt warmth in her smile that he had not felt in a while. "What's that guy's problem anyway?" Brad asked her as he turned back to the jukebox.
"Don't pay any attention to him. He's the African American version of a 'red neck'," she laughed.