MsT's Simple Cantina

I walk in, dusting of my faded blue jeans and trucker hat. I’m red from the sun and smell like cigarettes, gasoline, and sex.

I look at the bartender. “Can I get a boilermaker?”
 
Smiles at MsT through my stubbly, dust covered beard. My eyes linger a bit on her as I take the shot and raise it to her. “Thank you” followed shortly by “another, please..”
 
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