Two Drinks

The place was empty. She found a seat near a small table and a facing chair. When the waitress came over, she ordered herself a fuzzy navel. She also asked for a scotch.

She had learned a long time ago to always order two drinks so it appeared as if she was with someone, or awaiting a friend's arrival. It didn't always work to keep the idiots rolling in for happy hour at bay. But it did enough.

Today, especially, she wanted to sit and leisurely sip a drink. No screen. No talk. No men.

But then, she looked up.

100 Words in 100 Seconds

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