In Constant Sorrow

Chapter Four: Pieces

A group of black clad men came into the diner, each covered in tattoos with heavy lids and bloodshot eyes. The waitresses behind the counter whispered to each other trying to decide who'd go and serve them. One of the men looked over at them, "can we get some fucking service?"

The women broke apart and the bravest of the group gathered their coffee cups. She set the small dishes of sugar and creamer down and then their cups, pouring each out their servings of coffee.

"That's all," one of the men dismissed.

She returned to the group of women and they went back to whispering, shooting suspicious looks at the men as they talked lowly amongst themselves.

"I don't want to serve them," one whispered.

The oldest of the group spoke up, "Get Abilene."

"No, she's in the back doing paperwork, I don't think we should bother her."

The older woman brushed past the girl and through the kitchen to the back office.

"Abby, there's some men out front, they're making us uncomfortable."

Abilene sighed, "What are they doin'?"

"Nothin' yet, they just look like satanists."

Abilene rubbed her forehead, "Great. Ok, I'll be up there in a second." She knew instantly who they were. She walked to the front and eyed the men in the corner booth. She pulled her paper pad as she walked towards the table of men scribbling a number down. She ripped the check out of the book and slammed it down on the table. The men jumped.

"Abilene."

"Chetta."

He looked at the bill and back at her, "What's this?"

"Your bill, pay it and leave."

"Coffee's free."

"Not today it isn't"

He sneered at her, "we're not leaving."

"Ok," she shrugged. She ripped the tablecloth off the table sending the coffee cups and other utensils flying. "Oops." She threw the table cloth at Chetta and put her hand out to the coffee soaked man, "Money." He glared at her and slapped a twenty into her hand. "Keep the change."

They all collected themselves and slunk out. She shoved the twenty into the tip jar and went back into the office. The waitresses stared at each other in shock.

Scrim laughed as the story was retold to him, "so you let her punch you in the face and now you let her pour coffee on you? Damn, bro."

"I didn't let her do shit-"

"What'd you think was gonna happen, going into her job?"

"We didn't know she worked there."

Scrim rolled his eyes, "ok."

The redhead scrim had his arm around, took mental note of this.

Abilene.

Scrim watched through slit eyes as the redhead bobbed her head over his lap. He sighed, settling into the feeling of her warm mouth wrapped around him. She was trying her best but kept scraping him with her teeth.

"You're done," he snapped, pulling her harshly by the hair. She sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Who's Abilene?"

He settled into the bed and looked up at the ceiling, "you need to get better at giving head before you start asking questions."