Tuesday

The Man With No Name (500 Words)


Riding into town his horse blacker than a moonless night, hat slung down low hiding the eyes from the fierce sun. He slowly trots down the main drag, people stop what they're doing and watch as he goes, looking at no one but seeing everything. He stops outside the saloon, hauls himself out of the saddle and hitches his steed.

The stranger walks into the saloon and everyone stops and stares at this new face in town, he walks up to the bar and says to the buxom barmaid "Need a room for a few nights"

With a tremble in her voice she replies. "don't want no trouble mister."

With the voice of a man who gargles tar in the mornings, he rumbles " aint looking for none, I want a warm bed and some hot coffee."

Somewhat reassured her voice warms, "well we can help you out with the bed mister, dollar a night. Coffee you  get at the Starbucks down the street."

Disgust crawls across his weather beaten and scarred face, he rummages under his poncho, pulls out a roll of dirty bills. Counts five off and tosses them onto the bar. "Figure I'll be here a few days at least, if I need to stay longer that's not going to be a problem now is it."

He stalks out of the bar, his spurs marking every step, the patrons following his every move.

Outside in the harsh sunlight he adjusts his hat and runs a hand over his greying stubble, he isn't the young man he once was. He looks up and down the street, sees the gaudy green sign, sighs and trudges towards his fate.

He pushes the door open with trepidation, waits a second, half expecting a shower of lead to be flung his way but nothing happens and the door gently closes.  He pushes it again, this time with more confidence and slowly walks in.

The overly friendly Barista greets him and tries taking his order in one fluid movement. "Hi sir what can we get you today?"

Staring from underneath the brim of his hat the stranger simply says "Coffee."

"Latte, espresso, cappuccino or Frappuccino sir?"

Not wanting to play this game he replies, "Latte."

"Large, Grande or Colossal? "

Gritting his teeth, desperately trying not to lose his patience he says, "Large … please."

"And would sir like a shot in that? We have Hazelnut, Banana, Baileys, Caramel …"

"NO!  I just want coffee." His voice a second away from madness.

"And what name is that sir?"

"No name." He grunts.

"If you don't give us a name sir how will you know it's your drink?" Grins the Barista, enjoying the power.

With the speed that gave him his infamy when he was still a young man he draws his revolver, the Barista still has the smug grin on his face as the back of his head decorates the wall.

"Guess I'll take that to go." Quips the man with no name.

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