In This Place

The Velvet Word of Truce

                  "I'm tired of where I've been, out in the dark, looking in"—Angie McMahon 

All of this moved through her mind in a flash, and she tightened her arms around Kris, feeling the curves of the girl's body. Kris pressed herself closer but there was hesitancy beneath her skin, Cory didn't know if it was real or imagined, but it was there, and she had the innate sense that the girl might break and run at any given moment.

"Cor...Cory...I love you too. But...but...for me...something's ch...changed. I...used to...to...always feel safe with...with you. Now it's...it's...different." Kris whispered.

Cory closed her eyes.

"I know." She replied then stepped back and took the girl's hand.

"Come on, Switcher is probably wondering where we are." She tried to smile. And, for the first time, she needed Switcher. She needed his cryptic remarks, she needed him to make Kris relax, she needed him to help her forget because she was afraid, she'd never fix any of this with this girl she couldn't live without.

But being afraid and being an asshole could still hold hands in just about any situation and she needed that. Switcher's pithy remarks and alcohol.

A lot of alcohol.

Cory opened the door of the restaurant and her and Kris went inside.

The interior was dark and window unit air conditioners were busy chugging away, even though it was December. A Christmas tree twinkled in the corner and upon closer observation Cory saw all the ornaments were little ceramic hotdogs. Two TVs covered the news, and the bar was well-stocked with every kind of liquor imaginable. Cory was slightly perturbed at just how comforting that was.

Switcher waved a hand from a corner booth, and they walked over, Cory letting Kris slide in first. It was fairly crowded and the low hum of conversation almost—but not quite—drowned out the tinny Christmas music playing from some speakers located behind the bar. Switcher still had his sunglasses on.

God Cor, I feel like my life script is being written by a bunch of drunken honey badgers. What the fuck am I doing here??" Switcher mumbled.

"On this earth...or in the Hotdog Bar?"

"Both." Switcher responded then looked up as the waitress approached. "We'll need drink menus along with your wiener menu, thank you."

Cory glanced at Kris and saw her looking around as if she'd just walked into the Sistine Chapel. She placed her hand on the girl's thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

"I gotta start taking you out more." She said, as she leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Kris's face colored.

"Okay, okay, I know. I've just never seen a place that has so many pictures of people eating hotdogs hung on the walls."

The waitress brought back menus and set them on the table. Switcher snatched one of the drink menus and admonished the waitress not to go too far.

"Let me see here..." he mumbled then closed the menu and held a finger up to show he was ready. Cory raised a brow.

"I'm glad you're ready to order but we're not."

"No,no,no,no...this is strictly for my hangover."

You know what you want all ready?" The waitress had a bad dye job and was so thin it looked like her elbows could cut glass. She wore the perpetually bored expression of someone who had a dead-end job and wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

"Yes. Bring me 3 Prairie Oysters, please."

"You got it. Between you and me Mister, if you hadn't ordered one, I would have brought you one anyway, you look like shit."