About every two weeks, Samson got restless. In New York, there always had been something to do: openings to galleries, drag shows, going to play laser tag, even something as simple as going clubbing. Summerview did not have much of that: he could go drinking in a bar (which he did), but it wasn't the same. Samson knew there were charms to the small town life, but the lack of diverse entertainment was not one of them.
Fortunately, there was a big city nearby. Samson had caught a ride with two girls that had been in town for three weeks and who had visited his store the other day. He had lost the two idiots two hours ago, but he'd had enough to drink. He had come here to dance.
And, interspersed with the dancing, he had come here to drink. He made a beeline for the bar. He was dressed in leather pants and a loose-fitting, midnight blue blouse, which, together with his long hair meant he caught some attention. The hair made him seem interesting, at the very least - it was something to have going for you.
When the bartender told him that the guy over there was ordering him a drink, Samson did not hesitate before ordering a rum and coke. Something changed about his attitude: the fact that someone was watching him made him a little more self-conscious, but it also made him move with more purpose. He looked over at the guy and his heart took a slight pause.
That man looked like a terribly bad decision if there ever was one.
No. No hesitation.
Samson walked over to him and leaned in to be heard over the music. "So I hear I have you to thank for the drink."