Money, Guns, and Apple Pie. Part 1

Some of, if not all of this blog post, may, or may not be a work of fiction…except for the parts that really happened.

I looked down at the clock on the dash of My bike, & it showed just a little after 2 AM. I had My leathers on, & felt just a little of the cold creeping in, so I estimated the temp at about 55 degrees. My stomach was raising all kinds of hell, because I left the motel in a hurry, & hit the road without My supper, so I was a little cranky to boot.

The cryptic message I got from Murph on My smart phone said nothing but, IN VEGAS. NEED HELP. BRING MONEY. It’s good to know You could depend on Murph not to change. I haven’t seen Him in twenty years, & He still has a gambling problem. Not sure yet if He still has the stripper problem or not.

So, I was heading down US Route 50 AKA The Loneliest Road in America, to deal with a problem of a buddy I haven’t seen in 20 odd years.

Murph’s problems were just going to have to wait for 30 minutes or so, cause I was hungry as hell, & that is dangerous…for other people.

I was still a long way from Vegas, & I had not hit US 93 south yet, so I stopped at the first diner I saw to get some chow. It was a clean place, & well lit, just like I liked it, & the windows allowed Me to see the Connie in the parking lot. That bike had all my belongings for this trip in the saddlebags, so I was keeping a close eye on her. I sat down at the booth facing the door, & next to the back wall so nobody could get a seat behind Me. One of the perks of eating in the wee hours, I guess. The waitress was a pleasant enough Lady for having to work the graveyard shift. I tried My best to muster a smile, & I ordered a piece of the apple pie on the counter with some ice cream, & a cup of hot coffee. I like plain old coffee, & you could usually depend on it being pretty good at small diners, & this one was no exception.

I saw the Waitress, warm up My pie in the microwave, & then She put the ice cream on top. Damn it looked tasty. Just as She was about to bring My plate to Me, the door opened, & two fellas in their 20s & wearing hooded sweatshirts walk in. Damn.

I am slipping I guess, because there is no way they could have got past My peripheral vision even 5 years ago. Anyways, She had to set down My plate momentarily to take care of these fellas. I was a little preoccupied I guess, because I also failed to notice the change in Her demeanor as She saw them come in. She obviously saw something that I missed. The fella farthest away from Me, I would estimate about 15 feet, turned just enough towards Me that I could see his hand was resting on the grip of a small revolver stuffed into the front of his pants. Shit! Not only did I not have time for this crap, I couldn’t shoot the bastards, because My piece of pie was right behind the one with the gun. Nothing worse than apple pie a la mode, with a helping of brain matter. Nope. I was going to have to outsmart these fine upstanding citizens. Not a problem. I had about 3 grand in My wallet, & I was going to use it for bait. The one with the gun, was the one that was in charge. I could tell the other one was scared of Him, & He was about 4 inches taller than chicken little. So, at this point, I had to take a gamble. Not too much of a gamble, because I already had My .45 out under the table, & pointed at King Kong’s pointy little noggin. I wasn’t going to shoot him, if I didn’t have to though.

At this point these two social rejects hadn’t even noticed Me, so I softly cleared My throat. “Pardon Me fellas. You two interested in making a little money?” I asked em.

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