Dead and Horny

Bar Hopping

The door to the Double Deuce opened with a creak, the hinges protesting loudly. A wave of heat rolled out through the door, carrying with it the scent of oily food, beer, and the delicious aroma of living, breathing human beings.

Dana opened the visor of her helmet and licked her lips, a small chasm opening up inside her stomach. Ever since dying, she had been stripped free of most of her emotions, her ability to feel pain, and even her sense of cold. However, her sense of smell had been amplified, and right now, all she could smell was the delicious bounty of flesh that packed the dimly lit Double Deuce. Every individual had their own unique scent, and a tired waitress who smelled of burger grease, coffee, and sweet potato fries greeted her at the door.

Dana pulled off her helmet, revealing a tumble of shoulder-length blonde hair with streaks of gray in it.

"You... waiting for somebody?" The woman's hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but several strands of it had already come undone, hanging lifelessly over a face that likely had quit giving a crap about ten years prior. She wore a faded nametag with the name Janice.

"It's just me." Dana's eyes swept across the room, taking in the men who had already noticed her entrance. A couple of bikers in the corner were elbowing their buddies and pointing her out, and a couple of college kids took a break from losing their money at the pool table to ogle her over their beers.

She had never been comfortable getting attention like this when she was alive, but that part of her that felt uncomfortable was dead and gone, leaving only facts. These men could stare all they wanted, and Dana just couldn't bring herself to care.

"Um..." Janice took a quick look around the bar, then back at Dana. "You sure you got the right place, hun?"

What Janice likely meant to say was this is no place for a single woman.

"I saw this place from the main road. Thought I'd stop in for a... bite." Dana tried to grin but ended up baring her teeth instead. Maybe if her parents had signed her up for modeling classes as a child, she would have been able to smile and wave at the judges, convincing them that she was beautiful both on the inside and the outside.

Janice wasn't one to argue, apparently, and just sighed in disappointment. "You got ID?"

Dana held up her wallet. "Been twenty-one for long enough."

Janice shrugged and stepped aside. "Open seats at the bar. You can give your order to the bartender and I'll bring it out from the kitchen."

"Thanks." Dana walked across the Double Deuce and sat toward the end of the counter. The door to the kitchen was to her left, and she could smell grease burning on the grill. Picking up a laminated menu, she flicked off some dried food that clung to it.

"Get you something?" The bartender was a tall man in flannel, and if his beard wasn't so neatly trimmed, Dana would have assumed he stepped out of someone's piss poor lumberjack sex fantasy. His sleeves were pushed up, revealing several different tattoos, including some that looked like they had been done in someone's basement.

"Lemon drop."

The bartender placed both hands on the bar and stared at her for several seconds. She wished he at least had a glass to pretend to be washing, maybe spit in it, give it a polish, and ask what brings her in.

Oh, you know, got murdered by a necromancer and can't properly die and see my loved ones in the afterlife, so am hunting down some lost magical items. You ever had that problem?

"A lemon drop, please. You know how to make one, right?" Dana knocked on the counter impatiently. "Or do you only serve beer here?"

"ID?"