By Emma Yates-Fourier
The snow crunched beneath the tires as the cars wove intricate patterns across the parking lot. "How bad is it here when the snow falls?" Ed had only been in Baltimore three months and this was the first appreciable snow fall, even though it was late in the season. "It depends on where you live or are driving to", Steve answered dryly, "but usually it is bad. Stay off the main road and interstates. Side streets might not ever see a plow but are passable as long as the snow doesn't pile up. What route do you take? You live in that Rockrose area don't you?"
Ed stared at the snow and pointed towards Linden Avenue, the road running past the warehouse entrance. "I take that into the city and then turn north on Morrison. I loop around the reservoir and that brings me to the back end of the neighborhood. I avoid the expressway."
Steve shrugged, "It might be slow but traffic will move."
"Another question. Where can I stop off for a drink and a meal between here and my place?"
"That strip shopping center by the belt road has a couple places."
"I was thinking of something a little less a lounge and more of a bar."
Steve smiled and lowered his voice, "I think I know just the place, Benny's. It is right there on Linden. You drive past it every day."
Ed thought. He took the same route every day and never noticed a bar, or at least a respectable bar, along the route. Hookers, dealers, corner groceries and bullet proof liquor stores were all that came to mind.
"You know the church? The big brick one near the top of the hill. Across the street is a long row of houses made from the same type brick. It is at the end of that block. I know the area looks seedy but once inside it could be any fashionable neighborhood. It might be described as blue collar but the owner is strict about no drugs or prostitutes. I play cards there every Monday." He lowered his eyes sheepishly, "That is when I don't have to work."
Ed smiled and shook his head. "When this expansion is completed you will have plenty of time for cards." His voice turned serious, "I do appreciate all the work you have done. We would not have made it this far without your help. I want you to know that."
Steve chuckled, "Yeah. If you stop off, the entrance is on the side street. Try to park there too, it is a bit safer than the main drag."
The heavy clouds made the route appear darker than normal. Ed cruised slower than normal along Linden on the lookout for the previously undetected bar. The church loomed on the left, lofty, dark and mysterious, on the right was the long block of row houses. He saw it. At the very end of the block, an unlit sign with faded lettering. He turned abruptly onto the side street. No parking spaces. At the end of the street he turned around. As he approached the main road a couple emerged from the side door and got in a car at the end of the street. Ed waited. They pulled away. "Prime parking spot" he said to himself. Across the street he noticed a girl on the corner. She wore sweatpants and a raincoat but no hat. The snow turned her hair into straggling strands. In her hand she held a plastic soda bottle.
Ed stared through the darkness. He occasionally liked to sample the wares they peddled but he had standards. If he had to pay, she had to be a bit older, not a strung out teenager, moderately attractive, be able to carry on a minimum conversation, and not hooked on hard drugs. He studied the girl; most likely she would not pass.
The entrance was a glass vestibule on the side of the building. As he entered the heat turned the coating of snow instantly to water. He shook the excess from his hair and entered. He stood opposite the bar which ran from the front of the building on his right about three-quarters the length of the building. At the end there was an open area with tables. Against the outside wall was a short cantilever counter and a scattering of occupied stools. The only unoccupied bar stools were at the far end of the bar towards the right, he took one.
He studied the clientele. Steve was correct, a blue collar, but seemingly friendly crowd. Behind the bar was a lone barmaid hustling to keep up with the demand for drinks. She stepped to the computer to input an order and stared in Ed's direction and held up a finger to indicate she knew he was there. She then turned away from the computer and flipped a coaster on the counter. "Do you want a menu?" Ed nodded. She pivoted, pulled a laminated menu from behind the liquor bottles and placed it in from of him. "Something to drink?"
The patrons clamored for service, raising their hands and holding aloft empty bottles or glasses. However, for these few moments, she was unconcerned and concentrated just on Ed. "A brandy would taste good tonight." She nodded, "Top shelf I presume." Ed nodded in reply. She placed the snifter in front of him, "I'll take your order in a minutes." And returned to the chaos along the bar.
He studied her. She wore a black polo shirt with 'Benny's' embroidered across the left breast and white shorts. The Benny uniform he surmised. She was average height, about 5' 6", jet black hair pulled back starkly into a pony tail, nose a bit too large and pointed, dark complexion, Mediterranean, Greek he would guess, and busty. It was difficult to ignore her breast tightly confined by the polo shirt. Ed's thoughts drifted. Imagine falling asleep on those!
She returned to take his order. Ed paused. He wanted to test her patience as the patrons forcibly requested service. Before he could order she spoke. "We are out of chili dogs. They are big sellers on snow days." She bent over the menu and ran a finger down the column. "Chicken tenders. Out of them. Crab cakes too."
"How is the chicken pot pie?"
"Good choice. Is that what you want? Good." She was gone.
Ed noticed a man standing in the corner of the bar fiddling with a cell phone. He put it in his pocket and walked over. "Your new here." It was a statement not a question.
"New to the city and new to this establishment."
The man chuckled. "We don't get many casual walk in customers, usually just regulars." His eyes scanned the bar.
Ed sensed a bit of unease. "A friend recommend this place to me. He said it would be a nice place to stop on the way from work. He said he plays cards here." That caught the man's attention. "His name is Steve Osborn."
His demeanor changed. "You work at that warehouse out the road. I hear they are expanding it a lot."
"We prefer to call it a distribution center but warehouse is good enough. I was hired to oversee the expansion. The first phase will be complete in a couple months. The entire project will take about two years."
The man extended his hand across the bar, "I'm Mickey, the owner. I've known Steve for some time, a good man. Glad to have you as a customer. Are you a card player?"