As they strolled along the highway, the old man put his arm around the fat chick’s waste (well as much of it as he could reach anyway) when she mentioned she was still cold. He thought about the woman walking next to him and knew that Karen, or Kare as he called her, wasn't the best singer in the world, but there was just something about her that touched him deeply when he first laid eyes on her, while singing her heart out to a bunch of the local boozers in a small town. Although his affections had grown for her over the past five years, their arrangement had always been strictly business and platonic - he'd never once made any advances towards her. And, as odd as it may seem, they'd never signed any documents proclaiming that he was her manager and agent, they just shared the endless motel rooms, traveling expenses (usually Greyhound) dinners (local greasy diners) the modest income; never an issue.
Sammy and Karen had no idea how long they had been walking but finally they heard an engine in the distance behind them, and eventually a pair of bright headlights came into view. As the vehicle approached, they stuck out their thumbs and felt somewhat dismayed when the half-ton truck drove by. However, when it came to a screeching halt a short distance away and began backing up, they looked at each other and smiled - perhaps their luck was changing. After the truck's window rolled down half way, a grizzled old man leaned over and said, "Git in." And then looking at the size of Karen he continued, "Hmm...One of you may have to ride in back."
Sammy said, "That's alright. I'll take the back."
As Sammy held the door open and motioned for Karen to get into the truck, she said, "Oh no. We’ll both ride up front. I'll get in first and you sit on my lap Sammy; we'll be just fine."
The truck driver looked a little amazed when Karen climbed into the seat and Sammy squeezed in on top of her lap, his face almost touching the rear mirror and windshield. They all laughed, after struggling for a while trying to get the door shut Karen said, "I don't think your seat belt will reach around us; do you have anything larger; something about the size of a hammock should do nicely?"
As the old half-ton truck jostled down the highway, the truck driver asked,” Where abouts yuh folks headin’? And what in the world were yuh doin’ smack dab in the middle of no where in the middle of the night?”
When the introductions were made Sammy said, “It’s a long story. If you could drop us off at the next large town you come to, it would be much appreciated – we’re both pretty beat from walking down the highway, especially Karen in her high-heels.”
After an hour of chit-chatting, impossibe for Sammy and Karen to doze for even a few moments, the half-ton slowly climbing out of a very dark valley and around a bend in the highway, they could see the lights of a town flickering in the not too far distance. When they reached the town, the truck driver dropped them off in front of a bar, a huge neon sign pulsating Lucky Buck’s Saloon. Sam said, “I don’t know about you, but my legs are almost numb from being all cramped up in the truck; let’s take a break. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“That’s a great idea,” Karen remarked. “I could use a good stiff drink after what we’ve been through tonight. I hope you’ve got some money stashed in those cover-alls because I haven’t got one red cent – didn’t even get a chance to grab my purse.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ve still got enough cash for something to eat, a few drinks and a place to stay for the night; its tomorrow night, I’m not too sure about.”
When they entered the bar, everyone turned their heads to see who had just walked in and they continued to stare – especially the men – their mouths gaping wide open, when they noticed Karen; her huge boobs looked as if they would explode through her low cut blouse at any moment. Making their way between the tables and leering customers, Sammy and Karen sat down on a couple of tall wooden stools with padded backs in front of the bar. The bartender, who was actually the owner of the bar asked, “What’s your poison?”
Sammy ordered a tall Coke and ice (he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol for five years) and Karen said, “Make mine a whiskey; on second thought, make it a double-shot straight-up; it’s been one hellova night.”
“Comin’ right up,” he replied.
While Sammy and Karen were sipping their drinks, the bartender, his curiosity concerning the odd looking couple finally getting the better of him, he asked, “Where are you guys from? I’ve never seen you in here before.”
Karen was about to answer when Sammy motioned, “Let me.”
“Well, it’s not the way it may appear. I just want you to know that although my woman (at the mention of the words, "my woman", Karen’s eyes opened wide and her brows lifted with surprise) is scantily attired – she’s not a hooker; she’s a professional stage-singer and we’re just passing through on the way to her next gig.”
Half believing what he heard, the bartender said, “My piano player and singer didn’t show up, most likely sleeping it off somewhere, and my patrons are more than a little pissed-off because there was supposed to be some live entertainment tonight. I don’t suppose you'd put on a show for us? I’ll pay you each $200.00; I realize it’s probably less than what you usually work for, but that’s all I can afford.”
The exciting conclusion will be posted tomorrow...cheers - eh!
FACEBOOK COMMENTS:
Cheryl B: Got me sucked in ...keep writing!
Len Sherman: Glad you're liking the stories Cheryl - I'm always open to ideas for a story - sometimes just one line will produce one, so if you've got a line, let me know and I'll see what I can do - no promises though.
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