Whiskey

I give to you a story in eleventy-one words...

‘Can I help you?’

‘A table for one, outside.’

‘But it’s pouring.’

‘There are umbrellas.’

‘But…’

‘No more buts. Seat me.’

He led her to a table.

‘Can you please wipe down the chair?’

He did so with a huff.

‘Bring me your best whiskey, neat. And I’ll know if it isn’t your best.’

He returned, placed the glass before her, and remained.

‘Why are you waiting?’

‘Making sure you like it.’ Then to himself, ‘you crazy bitch.’

She dipped her finger in the glass, flicked the drop onto the sidewalk between his legs. It popped like a cap gun.

‘It’ll do.’

He ran into the restaurant.

She chuckled. ‘Ah, whiskey…’