Later that same day ~at Pogue
The bell rang over the door as Woody walked into Pogue later that evening. Jordan said seven and it was closer to eight if the clock over the bar was correct. He wasn't able to leave RMV until well into the afternoon, with his wallet a hundred dollars lighter....
....Who would have guessed that the fine for a lapsed license would be so high?
"There you are! I was beginning to think you stood me up." Jordan called to him from behind the bar. She motioned him over with a bottle of Wild Turkey.
Woody looked at his marginally clean hands and the brake dust staining the cuffs of his shirt. "Ah sorry, I had a flat tire."
"Well, you're here now..." Jordan said setting a glass on the bar and pouring him a finger of bourbon. At the horse whipped look on his face she changed it to a double. She poured one for herself and lifted the glass in toast. "Happy Birthday."
Woody smiled and said thanks making no move to pick up the glass.
"What's up?" Jordan asked downing her drink savoring the smooth burn.
"I'm afraid if I start I won't be able to stop."
"It's your birthday, you're allowed to let loose a little."
"No, you don't understand I have this...curse."
"Woody I never realized you had a drinking problem." Jordan reached out to take the offending glass away.
Woody laughed out loud "No, not that kind of curse. It's just today I'm worried I'll chip a tooth or something...."
Jordan tilted her head asking him to elaborate. Woody self-consciously looked up the bar and lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "My birthday is cursed."
It was Jordan's turn to laugh long and hard. Tears were rolling down her face by the time she stopped. The only reason she did stop was that Woody sat there looking like he just crossed his heart and hoped to die.
"You can't be serious...."
"Very..."
Jordan leaned into the bar focusing her attention completely on him. "Are you saying you truly believe in curses?"
"There's no other explanation. Every year, for as long as I can remember, this date has been the worst day of the year...not only for me...but everyone around me."
"That is so full of bullshit...and I'll prove it." Jordan stated with conviction and lifted Woody's untouched drink to her lips. With a dramatic pause she downed it. Holding the glass back she inspected it and ran her tongue over her teeth. "See....no broken glass no chipped teeth......" She poured another round and pressed the drink over to Woody. "Let's try this again...Happy Birthday."
Once again Woody pushed the drink aside. "I don't think you're taking me seriously Jordan....."
"HA! What was your first clue?" She knocked back her third shot of alcohol on reflex.
"The last time I planned on going out and having a drink on my birthday I ended up getting the stomach flu." When Jordan lifted her eyebrows as if to say 'and...' he continued, "I spent the day with the hang over and didn't even get a chance to get the 'drunk' part."
"Then you need to make up for it." Jordan observed and pushed the glass back at him. She placed her foot on the bottom shelve on the back of the bar and rested her elbows on the surface. He could tell by her stance that she wasn't going to let him back out a third time.
Woody begrudging took a sip waiting for the tell-tail signals that something dire was going to take place.
"See? That wasn't so bad was it?" Jordan asked as her foot slipped from its perch under the bar.
She bit back a retort at Woody's unspoken question of alarm. Wisely, she opted to find a seat around the front of the bar. She settled into the barstool next to him and poured them another round.
"So, tell my Hoyt what do you think caused this curse?" She really didn't care about the answer but she reasoned it would be either listen to his improbable story or have to watch him pathetically nurse his bourbon.
Jordan sipped her drink as she listened to him drone on about the year a suicidal deer hit the front of his deputy's vehicle and the year the cleaner's turned all of his white shirts a pale shade of blue due to a pen inadvertently being left in a pocket.
As the time passed she felt dizzy. Giddily dizzy. Deep down she knew she'd probably pay for her rapidly apparent inebriation with a touch of a headache. She handed over her glass as Woody refilled his own. Little headache, big headache....she thought as she watched the liquor hit the bottom of her empty glass ...at this point it didn't make much of a difference.
"...........last year I spent my birthday stuck in the desert with you and took a nice bug-spray nap."
Jordan resurfaced at the reference to their trip to California. "Hey, wait right there! It was your idea to get in the truck alone with that guy." She interjected rolling her again emptied bar glass between her palms.
Glancing down, she saw two of them......not hands, which she obviously had, but two glasses, which she knew didn't exist.
"I couldn't let you go with him! It's my curse!" He replied filling his glass to the top. He turned his attention to hers filling it halfway.
"Let me get this straight. You're blaming the fact that some fruitcake thought we were aliens on your silly ass 'curse'?"
"Ah, yes" he answered precariously lifting the full glass to his mouth. He had to smile as Jordan's eyes followed his actions.
"This is just ludicrous, next thing you're going to say is that you believe in The Tooth Fairy..."
"I'm just stating the facts Jordan," he abruptly said, his voice slightly slurred.
She tipped her head to one side and immediately regretted the quick motion. When the dizziness was over she forced herself to think. After a long pause she stated. "Nope, still don't believe it."
"Believe what sweetheart?" The pair turned their attention to Max who had appeared behind the bar. He picked up the noticeably lighter bourbon bottle and scowled slightly at both of them.
Jordan giggled and Woody looked at the sleeve of his brake-dust-ruined shirt. Neither was very willing to answer.
"I think it's time to cut you both off." Max commented putting bottle back behind the bar.
"Oh come on Dad, its Woody's birthday!"
"Happy Birthday Woodrow," Max smiled and clapped Woody on the shoulder. "That's great...now cough 'em up."
"What?"
"Your car keys...yours too Jordan. Being it's your birthday and everything I'll forgo the lecture." Max held out his hand until they complied.
Nonchalantly Jordan reached into Woody's pant pocket and pulled out his wallet. She flipped it open and reached inside for a single and handed it to her amused father.
"Geez Jordan, all you had to do was ask?" Woody grumbled.
"Can I have some quarters Dad?" While she was waiting she looked at Woody's new license. "Crappy picture....hey.... did you notice your name was spelled wrong?"
Woody quickly snatched the wallet out of Jordan's hand. Sure enough his name was spelled H-O-Y-T-E. "SHIT!" he exclaimed.
Jordan laughed out loud as she strolled over to the jukebox. "Come on Hoyt, dance with me." Jordan dropped the coin in the slot and pressed the button........and everything when black.
For a split-second Jordan wondered if she passed out...but she could still hear the murmurs of the sparse crowd and the dim cast of shadows from the meager light outside.
"Everybody relax," she heard her father yell "It's probably just a thrown breaker."
Jordan walked over to the window and looked outside. The whole block was dark. Holy cow, she thought, I blacked out the city. "Hoyt, I think your right...it's contagious.
...to be continued...
The bell rang over the door as Woody walked into Pogue later that evening. Jordan said seven and it was closer to eight if the clock over the bar was correct. He wasn't able to leave RMV until well into the afternoon, with his wallet a hundred dollars lighter....
....Who would have guessed that the fine for a lapsed license would be so high?
"There you are! I was beginning to think you stood me up." Jordan called to him from behind the bar. She motioned him over with a bottle of Wild Turkey.
Woody looked at his marginally clean hands and the brake dust staining the cuffs of his shirt. "Ah sorry, I had a flat tire."
"Well, you're here now..." Jordan said setting a glass on the bar and pouring him a finger of bourbon. At the horse whipped look on his face she changed it to a double. She poured one for herself and lifted the glass in toast. "Happy Birthday."
Woody smiled and said thanks making no move to pick up the glass.
"What's up?" Jordan asked downing her drink savoring the smooth burn.
"I'm afraid if I start I won't be able to stop."
"It's your birthday, you're allowed to let loose a little."
"No, you don't understand I have this...curse."
"Woody I never realized you had a drinking problem." Jordan reached out to take the offending glass away.
Woody laughed out loud "No, not that kind of curse. It's just today I'm worried I'll chip a tooth or something...."
Jordan tilted her head asking him to elaborate. Woody self-consciously looked up the bar and lowered his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "My birthday is cursed."
It was Jordan's turn to laugh long and hard. Tears were rolling down her face by the time she stopped. The only reason she did stop was that Woody sat there looking like he just crossed his heart and hoped to die.
"You can't be serious...."
"Very..."
Jordan leaned into the bar focusing her attention completely on him. "Are you saying you truly believe in curses?"
"There's no other explanation. Every year, for as long as I can remember, this date has been the worst day of the year...not only for me...but everyone around me."
"That is so full of bullshit...and I'll prove it." Jordan stated with conviction and lifted Woody's untouched drink to her lips. With a dramatic pause she downed it. Holding the glass back she inspected it and ran her tongue over her teeth. "See....no broken glass no chipped teeth......" She poured another round and pressed the drink over to Woody. "Let's try this again...Happy Birthday."
Once again Woody pushed the drink aside. "I don't think you're taking me seriously Jordan....."
"HA! What was your first clue?" She knocked back her third shot of alcohol on reflex.
"The last time I planned on going out and having a drink on my birthday I ended up getting the stomach flu." When Jordan lifted her eyebrows as if to say 'and...' he continued, "I spent the day with the hang over and didn't even get a chance to get the 'drunk' part."
"Then you need to make up for it." Jordan observed and pushed the glass back at him. She placed her foot on the bottom shelve on the back of the bar and rested her elbows on the surface. He could tell by her stance that she wasn't going to let him back out a third time.
Woody begrudging took a sip waiting for the tell-tail signals that something dire was going to take place.
"See? That wasn't so bad was it?" Jordan asked as her foot slipped from its perch under the bar.
She bit back a retort at Woody's unspoken question of alarm. Wisely, she opted to find a seat around the front of the bar. She settled into the barstool next to him and poured them another round.
"So, tell my Hoyt what do you think caused this curse?" She really didn't care about the answer but she reasoned it would be either listen to his improbable story or have to watch him pathetically nurse his bourbon.
Jordan sipped her drink as she listened to him drone on about the year a suicidal deer hit the front of his deputy's vehicle and the year the cleaner's turned all of his white shirts a pale shade of blue due to a pen inadvertently being left in a pocket.
As the time passed she felt dizzy. Giddily dizzy. Deep down she knew she'd probably pay for her rapidly apparent inebriation with a touch of a headache. She handed over her glass as Woody refilled his own. Little headache, big headache....she thought as she watched the liquor hit the bottom of her empty glass ...at this point it didn't make much of a difference.
"...........last year I spent my birthday stuck in the desert with you and took a nice bug-spray nap."
Jordan resurfaced at the reference to their trip to California. "Hey, wait right there! It was your idea to get in the truck alone with that guy." She interjected rolling her again emptied bar glass between her palms.
Glancing down, she saw two of them......not hands, which she obviously had, but two glasses, which she knew didn't exist.
"I couldn't let you go with him! It's my curse!" He replied filling his glass to the top. He turned his attention to hers filling it halfway.
"Let me get this straight. You're blaming the fact that some fruitcake thought we were aliens on your silly ass 'curse'?"
"Ah, yes" he answered precariously lifting the full glass to his mouth. He had to smile as Jordan's eyes followed his actions.
"This is just ludicrous, next thing you're going to say is that you believe in The Tooth Fairy..."
"I'm just stating the facts Jordan," he abruptly said, his voice slightly slurred.
She tipped her head to one side and immediately regretted the quick motion. When the dizziness was over she forced herself to think. After a long pause she stated. "Nope, still don't believe it."
"Believe what sweetheart?" The pair turned their attention to Max who had appeared behind the bar. He picked up the noticeably lighter bourbon bottle and scowled slightly at both of them.
Jordan giggled and Woody looked at the sleeve of his brake-dust-ruined shirt. Neither was very willing to answer.
"I think it's time to cut you both off." Max commented putting bottle back behind the bar.
"Oh come on Dad, its Woody's birthday!"
"Happy Birthday Woodrow," Max smiled and clapped Woody on the shoulder. "That's great...now cough 'em up."
"What?"
"Your car keys...yours too Jordan. Being it's your birthday and everything I'll forgo the lecture." Max held out his hand until they complied.
Nonchalantly Jordan reached into Woody's pant pocket and pulled out his wallet. She flipped it open and reached inside for a single and handed it to her amused father.
"Geez Jordan, all you had to do was ask?" Woody grumbled.
"Can I have some quarters Dad?" While she was waiting she looked at Woody's new license. "Crappy picture....hey.... did you notice your name was spelled wrong?"
Woody quickly snatched the wallet out of Jordan's hand. Sure enough his name was spelled H-O-Y-T-E. "SHIT!" he exclaimed.
Jordan laughed out loud as she strolled over to the jukebox. "Come on Hoyt, dance with me." Jordan dropped the coin in the slot and pressed the button........and everything when black.
For a split-second Jordan wondered if she passed out...but she could still hear the murmurs of the sparse crowd and the dim cast of shadows from the meager light outside.
"Everybody relax," she heard her father yell "It's probably just a thrown breaker."
Jordan walked over to the window and looked outside. The whole block was dark. Holy cow, she thought, I blacked out the city. "Hoyt, I think your right...it's contagious.
...to be continued...