03-27-2010

Start Fiction:

I walked through the pub's front door; all conversation halted. Synchronized drinks were taken as heads turned and eyes hesitantly looked in my direction.

I wasn't well known in town, but something told me that was changing. I had always gotten along with most citizens, even though I tended to keep to myself. That is until Frank Hollins decided to drive his truck across my front lawn crashing into my wood shed at two in the morning, butt ass drunk.

Apparently, calling the police is not well received throughout the town. Even the arresting officers seemed rather put off that I had made the incident such a bug deal. A drunk crashing his truck anywhere seems like something one should report; except here, I guess.

Frank was well liked by everyone. He was the youngest son of a good farming family, active in the community and a well liked carpenter. They all knew he could be a little 'rambunctious'; I found it interesting that this was the same term everyone used when it came to Frank. I preferred dangerous. However, I was beginning to understand that I lived in a town of enablers.

I made my way across the front seating area to my regular booth. By regular, I mean the booth I sit in every six to eight weeks when I actually eat out. I made sure I made eye contact with those who
'dared' look me in the eye.

I gave simple nods of acknowledgment; I had no hard feelings not did I have anything to prove. We just didn't have the same take on social responsibility, civic duty. The small town mentality was going to take quite a lot of getting used to, more than I suspected. I, as much as they, just needed to give it some time.

I sat down and opened a menu. No need to draw the moment out any longer than need be. Plus, I was really hungry. No matter how little Gerald thought of me, I was a paying customer, and a generous tipper. I'd get service, but without a smile.

The group began to whisper, turning back to their conversations. Slowly, they forgot I was there and things began to return to it's normal level of gossipy chatter.

That didn't take long, I thought.

I continued to scan the menu, even though I had it memorized. I just wanted to fit in where I could. As I flipped the menu over, I heard the door open behind me and silence one again fell over the pub.

That didn't last long, I thought. It must be Frank.

End Fiction.