Post by High Tide on Oct 9, 2017 22:20:10 GMT -5
It was Canadian Thanksgiving, and I for one was feeling thankful. Sure, maybe I did not have a huge family to share my thankfulness with, but I was thankful. Was I ever thankful.
My life had been go, go, go lately and this holiday was a perfect relaxing break. I wish I could say I was relaxing at home with friends, or toasting and celebrating life with family, but the reality was quite different. I was sitting in a small little pub, it's name irrelevant and it's atmosphere a little more light and jovial than I was used to.
I had heard nothing but great things about their “bachelor turkey dinner” (a rather depressing term, at least I thought so) and when the older blonde waitress set the plate down before me I had to admit I was impressed. Let alone the fact that I could smell the savoury dinner all around me as it was a popular choice tonight, but the second I laid my eyes upon my feast for one, my mouth was watering.
Beautiful, juicy turkey, smothered in a glistening gravy that a quick taste determined was just salty enough for my liking. Mashed potatoes smoother than freshly shaved legs, melt in your mouth carrots that caught the light at a great angle. The stuffing from smell alone was the best I would ever taste in my life, I could see that. I thanked the waitress and she smiled at me wishing me a happy Thanksgiving.
As I began to stuff my face with a plate meant for the gods, my brain was automatically trying to think about things I didn't want to think about. I did not want to think about just how well Carlos had turned things around for me, and his insistence that he could do it again, more frequently, for only twenty percent. I didn't want to contemplate that. No, all I wanted to do was sit here and eat my damn Thanksgiving dinner, but of course that was too much to ask.
I couldn't help it. My rise to power in the underworld was dependent on being present. Those currently at the top, they wouldn't be sitting down eating dinner today. Not without running through five or six plans of their own. I had been on the top once, I knew exactly what it entailed.
I slowly ate my food, savouring every bite, trying to find some comfort against the loneliness by making the experience last as long as possible. Even the third rum that my waitress had brought over wasn't numbing my thoughts enough. Damn, was the food good though, and that wasn't the rum talking.
There was of course the tournament, which without a win on my part, I would not win. Not only that but even by winning, it was out of my hands. I had lost my chance by losing one match, and whether or not I'd get a sudden death chance was purely based on the results of another match. Out of my hands, not the way I liked things, but I was the one who let it get to that point. All I could do was try and defeat Alexa Black and hope for the best in the other match.
I continued to eat. My eyes scanned the room as I chewed as slowly as humanly possible. There was laughter as no doubt regulars commiserated but were too drunk to really care. The food was good for them, the atmosphere comfortable and no doubt the waitresses were a little on the extra friendly side in order to get the maximum tips. I couldn't blame them, I'd hate to be working on a holiday.
Soon my meal was finished, and the rum as well. I didn't want to leave, but it would be too weird to stay. Besides, there was always too much to do, so much unfinished business. I left enough cash on the table to cover my meal and a hefty tip, and without a look back, I was gone into the night.
My life had been go, go, go lately and this holiday was a perfect relaxing break. I wish I could say I was relaxing at home with friends, or toasting and celebrating life with family, but the reality was quite different. I was sitting in a small little pub, it's name irrelevant and it's atmosphere a little more light and jovial than I was used to.
I had heard nothing but great things about their “bachelor turkey dinner” (a rather depressing term, at least I thought so) and when the older blonde waitress set the plate down before me I had to admit I was impressed. Let alone the fact that I could smell the savoury dinner all around me as it was a popular choice tonight, but the second I laid my eyes upon my feast for one, my mouth was watering.
Beautiful, juicy turkey, smothered in a glistening gravy that a quick taste determined was just salty enough for my liking. Mashed potatoes smoother than freshly shaved legs, melt in your mouth carrots that caught the light at a great angle. The stuffing from smell alone was the best I would ever taste in my life, I could see that. I thanked the waitress and she smiled at me wishing me a happy Thanksgiving.
As I began to stuff my face with a plate meant for the gods, my brain was automatically trying to think about things I didn't want to think about. I did not want to think about just how well Carlos had turned things around for me, and his insistence that he could do it again, more frequently, for only twenty percent. I didn't want to contemplate that. No, all I wanted to do was sit here and eat my damn Thanksgiving dinner, but of course that was too much to ask.
I couldn't help it. My rise to power in the underworld was dependent on being present. Those currently at the top, they wouldn't be sitting down eating dinner today. Not without running through five or six plans of their own. I had been on the top once, I knew exactly what it entailed.
I slowly ate my food, savouring every bite, trying to find some comfort against the loneliness by making the experience last as long as possible. Even the third rum that my waitress had brought over wasn't numbing my thoughts enough. Damn, was the food good though, and that wasn't the rum talking.
There was of course the tournament, which without a win on my part, I would not win. Not only that but even by winning, it was out of my hands. I had lost my chance by losing one match, and whether or not I'd get a sudden death chance was purely based on the results of another match. Out of my hands, not the way I liked things, but I was the one who let it get to that point. All I could do was try and defeat Alexa Black and hope for the best in the other match.
I continued to eat. My eyes scanned the room as I chewed as slowly as humanly possible. There was laughter as no doubt regulars commiserated but were too drunk to really care. The food was good for them, the atmosphere comfortable and no doubt the waitresses were a little on the extra friendly side in order to get the maximum tips. I couldn't blame them, I'd hate to be working on a holiday.
Soon my meal was finished, and the rum as well. I didn't want to leave, but it would be too weird to stay. Besides, there was always too much to do, so much unfinished business. I left enough cash on the table to cover my meal and a hefty tip, and without a look back, I was gone into the night.