Short Stories

A Plan

The bar was starting to empty out as the live band finished their set. A clean cut girl girl with short blond hair. Took a seat at the bar and ordered herself a Shirley Temple. A more rugged man with torn and oil stained clothes smirked and sat beside her.

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be paying for her own drinks," he smiled.

She glanced at him and smiled back but with more bite. "Pretty boy like you should be somewhere else by now."

"You think I'm pretty?" He laughed, less offended and more amused by the comment. He lit a cigarette which got him a nasty look from the bartender as he cracked open a beer but he wasn't told to put it out.

"Not for long if you keep smoking that," she said without looking up. She smiled and thanked the bartender for the red drink.

"A face like this is timeless-" he glanced at the drink and grinned- "Hollywood." He had gone over there to find someone to take home, the girl was very pretty after all and it'd make for an interesting night.

She laughed and shook her head. "You're not my type of guy."

Intrigued, he downed the rest of his beer and ordered another. "And what is your type of guy?"

She turned and looked him up and down. "For starters he won't smoke," she said flatly. "He'll be taller than me so one of us can reach the shelves. He'll be clean cut and professional and won't listen to loud music-" she ticked off her fingers as she continued on making the man laugh.

"You got this guy all figured out Huh?"

"Yes. I know exactly who I am going to be and who I'll be with. I've had my whole life planned out."

"So you planned this?" He asked, gesturing to the bar.

"Well- no- but I planned-" he cut her off, much to her annoyance.

"You can't plan life, Hollywood, it just happens." He opened his arms all grand like and took a shot.

"You're going to destroy your liver."

"If I do it will be by chance," he grinned and winked.

She shook her head, not yet half through her drink. "You can't just float around getting drunk and finding random girls to take home and call that life."

"Sure I can! Just did."

"Where do you think you'll end up with a plan like that?" She sighed.

"I don't know! That's the best part. If I do find a girl or- whoever ya know that I really like well find somewhere chill maybe have kids." He shrugged and leaned back. "Life happens by chance. You never know. But mark my words, Hollywood," he leaned in closer, "I will never work some- day to day nine to five."

"That's still a plan."

"No it's a- oh what's the word- it's a promise that's it. It's a promise that I won't end up some washed up stick in the mud that can only remember the good times and ground his kids for doing the same stuff."

"Are you calling me a-a stick in the mud?" She raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grinning. "Take a shot with me, Hollywood, prove me wrong."

She considered the offer before nodding. He grinned wider and cheered before ordering a few from the bartender. A few shots in, they were laughing, words slurring as they shared.

"I used to be more fun," she promised. "I was!" The disbelief in his face made her laugh again. "No see when I was in high school- like- like freshmen or-or sophomore year- I was the one to drag my friends to parties." He shook his head laughing again. "Seriously! Look look, I got so drunk at my friend Amanda's party that I jumped off her second story balcony into her pool in one of her big pageant dresses and tiara," she held out her arms like a dress down at her sides and above her head like she was putting on a crown.

He gasped, covering his mouth. "No- really? Was she mad?"

"She was pissed!" She shouted, jumped when she realized how loud, then bent down and whispered, "She was pissed! The dress was totally fake though all the dye came off it and turned the pool green. She was so embarrassed it was horrible."

They both giggled before bursting into laughs again. "Damn Hollywood who knew you had it in ya."

"You don't have to call me that you know." She turned to her new drink, some purple and pink concoction that tasted like unicorn spit.

"Hm?" He turned to her from his empty beer can.

"Hollywood. I have a name."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"Anastasia," she said the name like it was the punchline to an offensive joke.

He scrunched you his nose. "Sounds like a stripper."

She laughed and shook her head. "It's a family name."

"Ah sorry grandmothers of Anya," he raised his arms and looked up, speaking to the sky. He turned back to her, "Zachariah, Zach, Ri, Ari, Hot Stuff, and Your Friendly Neighborhood Mechanic."

She laughed again. "No nine to fives huh?"

He shrugged. "It's temporary."

"Alright we're closing up time to get goin," the bartender said as he wiped down the counters. Zach paid and they both walked out.

"Thanks for the drinks, Zachariah," she said as she called herself an Uber. "It's been a long time since I've had that much fun."

"Zach and we should it again. You've got a dark side, Anya." He nudged her side and grinned. "Make it home safe, Hollywood. I'll catch ya on the flip side. Hey and- let loose a little. Life happens by chance." He bent down and pointed at her but his finger swayed. "Don't be a stick in the mud."

"You get home safe- Zach. And it wouldn't kill you to do something more than- than mechanicing and drinking."

He laughed and nodded, shaking his finger. "Touché touché."

And so they parted ways.