Sailor's Mist

The days passed by like its night. There really wasn’t much of a difference really. The same crowd passed during the day as it did night. The difference and for differ was not quite extraordinaire, yet it attracted the same type of person as it would during the late hours of the night; It’s regulars. They come and go, stay, leave, buy the local whore a drink, take her home, walk her in and watch her go. Delia the lead waitress, a large figured girl, big boned, thick lock of hair and a smile to go along with her outstanding sense of humor. The guys they all love her and she loves them back, the girls they know never to look twice at the big heavy set Jamaican women because if they did, well they know not too unless they feel they need to question her practice’s and her practice is never disturbed unless questioned. The Practice of Voodoo, black magic and let alone the tattoos on her back and shoulder’s. ‘If your fortunate enough’ is how they say then you could be one of the very few who could drink into the night, see them and left with out a wonder. The ‘Unfortunate’s' well, are left from in a stare, the same stare that leaves the rest of the ladies from in the bar with out its second. It’s Big Tim who sets his wonder, never worrying about how his bar goes from day to night with out leading a break for when a time or meaning will ever separate it. He pours the drinks, some with a smirk, some with out care and his only for�its thirst. He’s been running the bar for years now, under his family name for decades and is yet to wonder or be disturbed from in its mysterious glow. A glow that when noticed sends a chill, a night breaking horror, a day’s break with out the means for a moon to show. Yet he does his duty, caries on his family’s name, and day after day he’s in his place in on the high stool that slides from one end of the bar to the other, setting drinks out for Delia, serving his people and in the end his ear is always open for who or what ever needs him to hear its thoughts or set a story from in the other side of the brass spiked solid slab of wood that has been separating him from them for as long as he could and will.

“Yes, I know” Tim says, speaking above the beer tap as he stands over, leaning on its handle and watching as the smoke rises up from in the ashtray next to him. “Timmy, Big Tim” said Delia pecking his name into his ear, waiting for him to turn, looks at him then asks. “Tim who? Who are you talking to?” He turns, looks at her from over his right shoulder, stares, then turned back looking on to the tap then down on to the old timer laying there head down on the bar. “You using useless energy on that guy. Is he talking, mumbling, he better not be drawling on my bar.” Delia said, looking onto the old man laying his head over his arms and sleeping there as if he was dead. “I need pairs of that new Vodka ale.” She requested, stepping back as Tim brushed the foam from off the tip of the glass then slides it down in to the arms of the sailor that had been and is now on his fifth drink. “These bimbo’s seem to like it, they’ve been drinking the same drink for days now.” Delia said, placing her trey in its spot in on the counter from in the bar then stands in over it as Tim reached for the bottle of Vodka ale. “It’s the sailors, if their not in along the docks their here and the ladies well.” He said, dripping the ale in to the four glass’s Delia had set out on her trey. “Mmm sailors, I can’t get enough of them.” She said smiling then dropped it in to a means for un satisfaction when she looked once again onto the dead lazy tiring old man from in behind the barstaps.

“Hey Tim.” The sailor sitting in at the center bar called out as Delia began stepping out from in behind the bar. Tim looks over, turning his head, looking over the old man, the old man next to him then met the calling sailor in the eye. The sailor waves out his hand, watching Delia from in the corner of his eye and waves Tim in.

“Is she for real?” The Sailor asked.

“What, is, how?”

“The lady, I see those ink stains leaking from in her blouse.”

“Well, it’s your eye sailor.” Said Tim, letting it slip from out of the left side of his mouth; not holding to much interest and again not denying his service as he says, “If you look hard enough you’ll see she's setting a sexy drink to a sexy table for some sexy ladies.”

“I was wanting her. I want to buy her a drink if I can, if its good with you.”

“With me, its your call sailor.”

The sailor sat tight, waiting for Delia to return for another order to be served until he felt her, at least he thought he did when the pins spiked into his back leaving him to believe that it was coming from her, that she was standing in behind him and rubbing her large lumpcouse breast along his back. He turns, looks both ways, watched the people sitting in at the tables behind him then turned back in his seat only to be stuck with Delia herself breathing a wind into his face. “Hello, hello.” She said, leaning back, letting him get in another whiff from in the breath she leaves his face with. The pale white skin begins to go green as his eyes set else where for a stare and in to a place Delia her self only knows and knew, knowing it was just the place to set this slump of a sailor sitting in on one of her stools, looking for a quick fling to go along with the cheapest of beer that he has been drinking all afternoon. She leaves him there, staring in to the bar as she walks out from in behind, passing Tim as he builds his chip castle in under the taps on the counter bar, sneaking one for her self and crunching it in her mouth as she steps on in towards the sailor. With a swing of a hand she spins the stool, setting the sailors sight onto the ladies sitting at the corner table from behind him then sits up onto the stool beside him. “Its all you” She whispers in to his ear then giggles as his eyes begin to widen up.

The table sits four young women, each slurping the Vodka ale from out of their glass. The Ale Delia had token disgust towards, a drink she couldn’t handle any more, its fizz left her to unturn the turn it left on her stomached each and every time she had it served. The girls are and were well aware of Delia and knew that the sailor who was yelling for Tim wile they were being served had his eyes set on her�ever since they’ve set their on him. What they don’t know and as Tim had requested in the past; won’t know. Is their not really their and if they are then Delia is going to have some explaining to do. The girls sitting in along the back; a burnet and a blond, both wearing the same clothes; a coffee waitress outfit, the out fit they both think gets them on Delia good side as she too serves her drink but little do they know Delia doesn’t fancy Coffee, never did. The two with their backs to her and the sailor are two more waitress’s who take to the bar for a drink before and after work, hoping to land a stud or any man that would, could satisfy their greedy little needs and compliment them on their tender fragile physiques along with their golden brown hair. Twins, they seem to think they could fool any man in the bar, they’ve even had themselves a bet with Delia, betting her a night on the house if they could, in fact, lead her to believe that one could inflict pain on the other from in a self deflected wound as the other one felt and reacted to it. Delia wasn’t too amused with the deal and insisted she held one of the twins hand wile the other began to pinch and scratch her self. The only one that was left for shock despite the scratches and pinch bruises on her arms was the one inflicting the pain as she suddenly began to notice her sister go from a feminine figure in to a male’s and a male in the nude at that. Since then the two have held a strange eye for Delia and refrained from eye contacted from in each other anytime Delia's around.

“How is it sailor?” Delia questions, slurring her voice and lightly hissing it in his ear and along his neck. The sailor sitting still on the stool, his eyes wanting to drop as his backbone remains as if his vertebra had been locked and held still from in the pins of what he thought could have been breast; Breast of the women know blowing questions into his ear. “I love this part.” She said looking in to the corner of his right eye then looks over on to the girls at the table as they begin leaking in to a paste of flesh from after having their drink glass’s roll along their bodies, ripping in to their skin as the clothing fell in shreds onto the floor. The waving pasty flesh waves out from under the table sending the table up in its tide, setting it back down from in its float and continues to wrinkle in and around another one. Delia sets her hand on to the sailors thigh, sliding it down along, on his knee and back up towards his crotch letting him feel for him self from in his right leg. Tim looks over, setting the last of his chip castles chip up into his mouth then quickly looked away, letting Delia have her time, a break to her self then reached in under the counter and grabbed him self a pop.

“Mmm Sailor,” She said, gripping in to his crotch, rubbing it, gently setting the tip of her thumb in around the throbbing end of his erection and letting the thumps flow up in to his chest before saying “Anchors away.” Leaving the sailor knocked into his own sense of emotion, kicking his feet from under him, banging the legs of the stool, waving his arms out and holding his head up high as he looked down, looking for a tide that has been waving a pasting flesh in under him, around his feet and beginning to set rise. Delia steps out in front him, looks on to the table of her four Vodka ale drinker’ and smiles holding out her hands then turns them around and shows off her catch of the day. The girls follow Delia’s hand, looking straight in to his crotch then let out a cheer, clapping and whistling. Delia steps back and to the side leaving the sailor to himself standing at the edge of his stool and staring straight ahead on to the table of four cheering girls then shook back in to his seat as the hand slapped on to his back. “What’s going on, what’s the crazed look about?” Asked Tim watching the sailor roll his eyes side to side then on to Delia as she walked by in behind Tim. “You want to by the lady a drink” Asked Tim, staring him in the eye and expecting the sailor to remain. “No” Said the sailor then looked down on to the floor, around his feet and stool then looked back up as Delia passed him by, pulling her blouse down over her shoulder and reveling some of her tattoo then reached out and grabbed a glass, tipped its ice cubes in to her hand and began rubbing them allover her neck and shoulders then broke for a smile as he jumped from out of his seat from after watching her melt an ice cube in along her breast. Delia sets the melting cube down in front of the tiring old man and he�brings up�a smile, raising his head up off the bar and looking in to the large set Jamacin womens breast as she laughs along with the others, watching the sailor run for the door and holding in what wind he had until the street struck into him along with the closing swing of the bars door.