4. A Lady Of The Night

     Usually whenever Henry arrived at his pub this early in the day, the barkeep knew that wasn't a good sign. That would only mean the flow had left early and the day was a total disaster. If the writer entered the establishment after supper, it was safe for him to assume that the day was better and the words and pages had been successfully composed. Yet today Henry was strolling in before lunch and with a look that could kill people on his face. Without even being asked, the barkeep started to make his favorite drink and had it already on the bar in front of his chair before the grumpy writer took his usual seat.  Henry looked down at the drink and then back up at his barkeep.

     "Not what I was going to order," Henry confessed, "But it's there, so how could I refuse?"

     Henry grabbed the drink and slowly began to nurse it. He was tempted to just down it but decided against that as he didn't want to start pounding down shoots that early in the day. One of the bouncers came walking over and gave Henry a friendly pat on his back.

     "Flow gone already?" he asked.

     "It is," Henry confessed, "But it wasn't my fault this time, Gerry."

     "It wasn't?" Gerry replied, "What happened then?"

     "It was Lou," Henry said, taking another sip.

     "God dammit," Gerry said, well aware of who she was. "What did she do this time?"

     "She died," Henry replied, "That was enough to shake me out of my groove."

     "Shit," Gerry said, "I knew you two had issues but she was never mean to me. She was always kind to me and the staff, so I'm sorry to hear of her passing. What the hell happened to her?"

     "It was the cancer," Henry answered, "It came back about a year ago. She couldn't beat it this time out."

     "Damn," Gerry said, "Cancer sucks."

     "You can say that again," Henry concurred.

     Gerry slapped the bar with an open hand, "Cancer fucking sucks!"

     "I'll drink to that," Henry said, as he drained the rest of his glass, and then waved at the barkeep to bring him a refill.

     "Sorry about your loss man," Gerry said, "Despite all the shit you put each other through, I know you dug her in your own way. My condolences."

     "Thank you," Henry said, "I did dig her, even if in my own way."

     "I'll leave you to it," Gerry said patting him on the back again, "I got work to do too."

     "Talk to ya later," Henry said, and didn't even look as Gerry took his leave. He just sat there at the bar and nursed his new drink.

     Henry sat there at the bar and nursed a few drinks, until someone strolled over and parked right next to him without asking. He looked up at her to realized it was a rather nice looking blonde, with an hourglass frame and a killer smile. The kind of woman Henry could see himself falling for too quickly, causing a lot more chaos in his life. He was unsure if wanted to speak to her, or any other woman this of all days but Henry wasn't given much of a choice.

     "Hello handsome," she said to him.

     "Greetings," Henry said, returning the pleasantries.

     "You look a little down," she said.

     "Is it that obvious?" Henry asked.

     "A little bit," the lady replied, "Something happen?"

     "Someone I used to care about left this mortal coil." Henry said, as he re-positioned himself to face his new guest.

     "You used to care about?" the lady repeated.

     "I guess I still care," Henry admitted, "But she's an ex, so I didn't care enough to keep contact or rescind the restraining order."

     "I'm sure there's an amazing story there," she said, sounding intrigued.

     "There is," Henry admitted, "And I should know, I'm a writer."

     "So you lie for a living?" the lady asked.

     "I exaggerate for a living," Henry corrected her, "For the entertainment of others."

     "That's a good way to look at it," the lady said, "Any profession can be made to look better if you choose the right words."

     "So, what is your profession?" Henry asked, despite already knowing and was just playing dumb because he was curious to hear her answer.

     "I am what is called a lady of the night," she replied, "But you could also say that I'm a personal trainer since I do help people get some well needed exercise. That might be the only cardio some of my clients do all week." 

     "So, you're a prostitute?" Henry asked.

     "I prefer the term companion," she replied, "But you can call me Dorothy."

     "Is that because you have the power to take me over the rainbow?" Henry said, clearly having fun with her at this point.

     "That's a nice way to put it," Dorothy said, smiling back. "I'll have to steal that line."

     "That one's on the house," Henry said, appreciating her sense of humor. "But the next catch phrase is gonna cost you, and I'm not cheap."

     "Neither am I." Dorothy said, winking.

     "So what does a companion do, exactly?" Henry asked, just making conversation at this point.

     "The same thing you every lady in my profession does," Dorothy answered, "But I like to add that human element to it that makes it feel real. The pillow talk, the snuggling, the little things that men are missing from the relationships that have gone stale and dried up.

     "Which is actual companionship?" Henry said, "I guess that fits."

     "You see," Dorothy said, nursing her own drink. "Companion best fits me."

     "So, what are you going rates?" Henry asked, as he was still curious.

     Dorothy leaned over and softly whispered into his ear, giving him rates for the evening.

     "Doesn't sound too bad," Henry said, being rather honest about it. He then leaned over and whispered something back into the lady's ear.

     "Well," Dorothy said, grinning back at Henry. "I like that idea very much."

     "Let's get something to eat first," Henry said, "I hate exercising on an empty stomach."


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