She leaned over, sideways from her stool, all tits and lips and curly hair falling in his direction.
"Got a light," she asked, sticking a cigarette in the corner of her painted mouth.
He set his beer down, just foam left and dug into his right pocket. Pulled out a lighter and slid it across the plywood painted like mahogany bar. She looked at the lighter, and moved her lips into a pout. Leaned in even closer and said "A gentleman would light it for me."
"You're in the wrong place if you're looking for gentlemen," he grunted, looking straight ahead and waved two fingers at the barkeep.
The woman pulled back, straightened on her chair, confused. men usually did what she wanted, most of the time before she asked. What was wrong with this guy?
"What's the matter," she snarled. "You don't like women?"
He paid for the beer and turned his head, and said, "I like women, but I don't like you."
I think this site is like a power juicer to the armadillo-skinned oranges of writer's block.
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