Anxious

Chapter 4: Buzzed Up

He waited for her down the road from the diner. She usually got off at 11am when she went in early. However, with all the customers he saw going in and out, he knew, she would probably get out late. So, around noon, he decided to wait at the bar that was three blocks down. He parked Vicki around back, and went in the side door. 

"Hey there, Frank! Nice ta see ya again," the bartender spoke with a drawl to Dan.

He couldn't remember the last time he used his real name, maybe back in PA. Why the hell should I? He had been coming to this hole-in-the-wall tavern for almost 5 years. He never stayed long. Long enough, Dan thought. 

"Still in town, huh? Haven't caught any suckers lyin' to the man? I tell ya, Bend's a nice city. Don't see too much trouble here," the bartender made conversation as he filled a double shot glass with Jack Daniel's, and set it on a napkin in front of Dan. 

He was known around here, for outing a local who was ripping off his company through worker's compensation. The guy was a con-man, Dan(Frank) showed the town the truth, and no one hated him for it.

He sat down on the bar stool. "Give me a Coke too, will you?"

He needed something besides the booze. Dan knew he had been drinking too much but he couldn't help it. The man needed liquid courage right now. Things always seemed to go smoothly for him. Until now. Dan was even starting to get stressed. This wasn't a normal business plan, and it sure wasn't feeling like one either.

He had visited Bend, OR a dozen or more times in the last 5 years but this time was something else. This time would change lives. And, Dan felt he was running out of time. He needed to reason with Leslie NOW, but every time he tried, something got in his way.

He sensed the anger rising inside him. He tipped the double shot up, experienced the warmth spread in his stomach, and took a deep breath. Dan liked being in control, and right now he felt like a puppet. He was on the run, but considered himself safe in Bend. For now. You know you have to get moving, fucker.

He motioned for the barkeep to refill his whiskey. He needed to keep his wits about him today, he needed to get her to talk to him. The nervous feeling that gnawed his insides, kept him drinking more and more.

The pub was slow, so he conversed with the bartender. "What's your name again? You drive the blue, Ford pickup out back, right man?"

"Stanley," he smiled. He was old and probably had been listening to guys like Dan(Frank) for decades. "I've told ya before, but ya never ferget that truck."

"How long you had her?" Dan drank down the shot followed by the rest of his Coke. 

"34 years and counting. You drive that fancy car, I seen ya 'round. She's old too, ya keep her nice, Frank."

Dan nodded his head as a thank you, and let the liquor cloud his brain. "Why don't you fill me up again, Stanley, you got any chips or pretzels?"

"Sure thing." Stan went in back to dig something up. "Got nuts. How 'bout nuts?" he yelled.

"Sounds great." Dan was starting to slur after his 3rd double shot.

"You know, I'm about to retire, Stan my man. You ever think about retiring?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I don't want to retire. Really never thought I have to, thought I'd be doing the same thing until I was too old to drive..." he trailed off.