Haunted Roads

When: Night
Where: Bar
Who: Tavin and Abby

It was dark. It was raining. It was typical Seattle weather and for being a cat, Tavin couldn’t say he minded it. He was likely one of the few that didn’t run about with an umbrella tonight. What was the point when the wind was picking up like it was? Just made you look like a fool chasing the weaving and near breaking thing about. No he simply moved quickly from location to location, never letting himself linger so long outdoors that he could be considered anything close to soaked. Course he had goods on him so letting himself get that dosed by the rain wouldn’t quite work in his favor.

That probably had something to do with why he was lingering about in this bar rather then moving on when it seemed the buyers had run dry. Always he was looking for that next deal but he wasn’t so hard up to get the goods moving that he had to rush around like a chicken with his head cut off. He was still above most others when it came to amount made. Selling was never a problem for Tavin, apparently he had a great business sense. It just wasn’t one that worked in that “real world” sort of atmosphere. Then again Tavin didn’t fit into that corporate business world mold regardless. He preferred the night hours; he didn’t do suits and ties, and just try to tell him to cover up everything that made him stand out a bit.

The bar wasn’t anything fancy; it looked like a hundred other bars he’d been to. Wood tables, stools at the bar, an older guy behind the counter and a few younger kids running around serving up drinks and wiping down tables. The lights were dimmed, the windows were a bit smoky, and radios spouted the most recent sports scores or highlight news stories that no one was really paying attention to. It was boring, plain, and not overly busy. But the few that were looking to score knew that it was one of the places Tavin could be found. At least for this week. Tavin changed locations often and never let any user know him so well that they could tell others where to find him too easily. Was a good way to have a cop show up looking to play the I swear I’m a junkie now sell me some goods game.

Tavin was good at spotting them, he’d seen them try it on others dealers enough. But they always had a heart that beat a little too fast and a look about the eyes that junkies didn’t. Humans wouldn’t notice these things, but he did.

A glass was on the table in front of him, the contents half finished but only half way considered interesting by Tavin. It wasn’t as strong as he’d like and the air was warm enough to the place that the ice melted nearly as quick as it was put in. Apparently one of the cute little waitresses with perky tits kept complaining about it being cold…so up that heater went, never mind that most of the guys in the place were damn fine with the temperature it was around here.

He itched for a smoke but this place actually kept that smoking ban in mind, most places didn’t care…that is until they got fined. Then suddenly they were smoke nazi’s. Ideally he was watching the bar, the way the people moved and listening to the conversations had that they didn’t seem to even think about someone else catching. That was the interesting thing about a bar. No matter how packed or empty everyone seemed to think that no one could hear them. Even when they were screaming to their friend over music. Tavin always heard though and sometimes he found out the most interesting things that way. If anything it was helpful in the clubs…gave him hints to who was looking to buy.

Picking up his drink he took another sip of the half watered down liquid.