A Trip To Bon Temps

I took a cat nap. Being a slayer has given me the strange ability to live on lack of sleep. I dress in the simplest outfit I had on me. Bootcut jeans and a plain low neckline tee. I pulled my hair back and put on some sandals. I assumed Bon Temps isn't as fancy as it sounds. I grab my purse, car keys, and roadmap. Time to go into investigative slayer mode.

I stopped at a gas station and filled up the tank. Got a cup of really shitty coffee. Boy, I really miss The Bronze. Barney Fife strolled in. He got himself a donut and paper. On his merry way he went. I have no idea if I'm considered a missing person yet. I hope to hell not.

I drove for what seemed like forever. Interesting views of wooded areas and swamps. This place had character. I found the sign I was looking for. Merlotte's Bar and Grill, it said. Lucky me, it's even open. Maybe blondie is working? I instantly pull into the paved lot. As I get out of my car, I see that this place is hopping. The lunch crowd would be my guess. This should be interesting.

I casually stroll in like I would the grocery store. I see a group of guys in red t-shirts and orange vest. Renard Parrish Road Crew the shirts read. They all stared as I was finding a place to sit. One in particular was giving me the once over. Blond hair, blue eyes and that all American boy look. From being a cheerleader in a previous life, I could tell this one was a jock in his. There was also a little something else about him, couldn't quite put my finger on it. He gives me a crocked dumbfounded smile. Typical! A big boy sitting next to him was telling him something. The reason I call this one boy is because he looks like one. The two reminded me of every other guy I went to high school with.

Then I glance over at the bar and noticed a man probably about mid thirtish giving me a once over. This once over was far different than the one the road crew was giving me. There was a look of recognition in his face. Even I could see that this guy wasn't all he appeared either. Don't get me wrong, I'd look twice if I ran into him on the street. He is cute. Especially the blue eyes. There was just something otherworldly about him. He reminded me of Oz by the way he carried himself, but he was no werewolf.

Speaking of werewolves, one just strolled in. A tall, hot glass of water. What's up with this place? He had on a flannel shirt and jeans that showed off one of the nicest butts I'd seen in a while. Dark messy hair and a permanent tan tone to his skin to match. Oz had nothing on this guy. Then again, Oz wasn't my squeeze. He noticed me. A smirk came upon his lips. Guess they don't see too many petite blonds in this neck of the woods?

The waitress came to get my order. Hair so red that Ronald McDonald would be envious. Speaking of clowns, her face was painted like one too. This chick looked like she is pushing fifty even though she carried herself like a thirty something. She spoke in that accent. This woman was obviously channeling the spirit of Peg Bundy. I just ordered the chef's salad and a Diet Coke. The waitress turned on her heels and went to the ordering window. There I saw an African American man with fake eyelashes. He is a walking gay pride parade. He looked over at my table after faux red said something to him. He smirked with a queen's attitude. Guess they recognize a non local when they see one? Must not see too many out of towners?

Then I spotted her from across the room. Dressed in her waitress gear. I guess she lived to see another day. Spike would have screwed her senseless and left her for dead. I guess boss man must be a real gentleman. She wore the biggest phony smile I had ever seen a person wear. I'd seen my fill of phony smiles. Cordelia and Harmony were the masters. I had a feeling that this phony smile wasn't malicious.

The poor thing had the privilege of serving the road crew. All American never made a pass at her. He looked like the type that would screw anything that came his way. He treated her with respect as did the rest of the crew. All American even pulled her aside. They looked more like brother and sister the longer I look. They were in some deep heated conversation. She shrugged and put her arms in the air. Whatever it was about, blondie looked like she had enough.

I watched blondie for a while. She served a guy that looked like an oversized bulldog. My spider senses tell me that he is of the pig kind. Just stay low, Buff. Can't risk being spotted. I just put on my casual face. Then blondie noticed me. Even though I wasn't in her section, she boldly strode my way.

"You don't look like anybody around here," she boldly says. I just look up at her and take a sip of my Diet Coke.

"So what if I'm not," I just said in return.

"Where are you from? You don't carry yourself like anyone around here. Your clothes are way too stylish."

"California," I simply answered.

"Wow! You came here all the way from California," she said and I just nodded.

"You know, a girl like you shouldn't be working at a place like Fangtasia. A lot of bad things happen to Eric's waitresses," she said.

"I can handle myself. Why is a girl like you working in a place like this," I simply threw her question back in her face.

"Hey, I'm just telling you this because you don't look like the fangbanging kind."

"Maybe I'm just working there for the big tips. Mind your own business, Sookie. It is Sookie, isn't it?"

She gave me a dirty look and walked away. Talk about being a busy body. I went back to my salad.

All American strutted up to my table. Big shocker! I notice he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of me. He smiled, but even I could tell that the lights weren't on upstairs. He thought he was slick when he stared at my chest. This is worst than that time those frat boys feed me beer. In fact, he reminded me of one of those knuckleheads. He sat his ass in the chair across from mine. Why do I have to be such a slow eater?

"I thought I died and gone to heaven," he said and paused. I let him finish his stupid pick up line. Although I have to admit I find his accent a little sexy, "Because there is an angel right in front of me." Oh gag!

I ignored him and just went about picking through my salad. The guy at the bar kept staring at me. All American's little boyfriend kept staring at me too. What's up with these people?

"What's your name, darling? I didn't seem to catch it," he asks. Oh, this could be fun.

"Veronica," I simply said. Why not make my way through The Archie's? Hell, a vampire thought my name was Betty already.

"That sure is a pretty name, Veronica."

"What's yours," I ask, batting my eyelashes.

"Jason. Jason Stackhouse," he said. What kind of dumbass gives his full name to a girl he just met? So it is blondie's brother. Poor girl!

"What do y'all do around here for fun?"

"Come to my place and find out," he said with that dumbfounded smile. I laughed like a little tart.

He handed me his phone number and went back to the road crew. I smiled and slid the napkin in my purse. This could come in useful.

The man at the bar gave me a knowing look. I thought, hell I'll just sit at the bar for a while. Blondie was relieved of her barmaid duties and left out of there like the wind. The man at the bar sat a Diet Coke down in front of me. The power of what he was lingered in the air. I looked over and noticed the werewolf from earlier was sitting in the stool next to mine. He gave me a subtle smile.

"I didn't ask for this," I said.

"No you didn't," said the man behind the bar. His blue eyes were hypnotizing. His hair was like spun gold.

"Then why?"

"I know who you are," he leaned down and whispered. "Your name is not Veronica."

"If you know who I am then why don't you tell me," I said. The werewolf laughed.

"I've prayed for the day you would blow right into our town. Your Buffy Summers, the vampire slayer," said the man behind the bar. I knew someone would find me out eventually.