Untethered

17 | Slow Dancing at Speedy's

When the trio pulled into the parking lot of Speedy's Bar & Grill, it was already crowded with cars for happy hour. It used to be Speedy's Lanes & Liquor, but when Speedy Senior's son took over the place, he didn't want to keep up the bowling alley part. Instead, he closed off the ends of the lanes, had the gutters filled in, and turned it into a full bar with a flattop and a fryer. He even turned half the lanes into a dance floor. 

Saturday nights were karaoke, and on Thursdays and Fridays, from eight to closing, there was a DJ. Any other time, you could feed the old jukebox with quarters to your heart's content—as long as you liked classic country, some classic rock, and every Shania Twain song ever made. Speedy Jr. had a serious thing for the Canadian bombshell, regardless of her questionable talent.

It was a dive, really. With a strange mix of old and new. The old bar area still had the thin, worn carpet on the floor with a pattern that had long ago faded into something indistinguishable. The years of stains on it didn't help matters any. Everything was stained, dark wood—bar, walls, booths, and stools. A few old, neon beer signs contributed the only splashes of color.

Through a wide doorway was the former bowling alley, and the difference was night and day. It was brighter in there, and the wood floor was the same light color of the bowling lanes. The bar top was stainless steel, and the walls were painted a garish combination of yellows, oranges, purples, and reds. Speedy Jr. once told Emma it was supposed to be a sunset. She was pretty sure he was sampling his own product when he did it. It looked more like Rainbow Brite was hacked to death in there.

Throughout the place, there were old photos depicting people bowling, eating, drinking; even different community events in their little corner of the city. Some were in frames, others just tacked on the wall with pins, tape, or even chewing gum—whatever was handy at the time.

In spite of the questionable décor, Speedy's had several redeeming factors. Mainly, the two-for-one happy hour and the burgers. Especially the burgers—cheesy, greasy, juicy, and perfect for consuming with a few, or more beers. Once you were drunk enough, dancing or singing to terrible karaoke only added to the fun. Plus, the service was excellent. It was still run by the family, and friends of the family, and they treated everyone who came in like they were old friends coming to hang out.

When Evan and Emma were little, their Grandpa Franco had been friends with the original Speedy. They spent hours bowling for free and playing the jukebox with quarters from the till. It was a neighborhood place. The old-timers preferred to stay in the old bar area, and the younger crowd preferred the noisier, more modern bowling alley section. All in all, it was familiar and friendly, and Evan, Emma, and Ryan needed that today.

"The three musketeers!" Rosalind Benson, Speedy Sr.'s granddaughter, greeted them warmly when they came in the door. "Get a table, kids, I'll be right over!"

The guys found a table, but Emma hung back to greet the cheery waitress. Rosie was two years older, and they had been friends for as long as Emma had been tagging along with her Grandpa. Ever since she was five, Speedy Sr. had Rosie around, helping polish glasses, rent shoes, clean bowling balls, and whatever other odds-and-ends needed doing.

She was tall, at least eight inches taller than Emma, with pale skin, and eyes so blue they were almost violet. She was all angles and no curves, except for her butt, which she took great pains to accentuate, insisting she had to "make up for such small tits". She was a natural blond, but she had long ago hidden the fact by dying her hair jet black and streaking it with vivid colors. Currently, she had bright purple and blue streaks running back from her right temple, which was accentuated by the sleek, high ponytail her hair was tortured into.