The Unremarkables


She was an entirely unremarkable looking woman. Maybe she would have been, in the right light, someone his grandmother might have called “handsome”. Good in a man, but not the preferred adjective for a woman. When she walked in he saw that she was almost as tall as he was.

He pulled his attention from the young brunette who wasn’t returning his glances and asked the bartender to send her a drink. He watched the message delivered and raised his head slightly when she looked over with eyes that might have been a little pinched.

She nodded; he raised his glass slightly.


The only remarkable thing about him was that he wasn’t drinking beer out of a bottle. It looked like bourbon-dark, so strong-on the rocks. The corduroy jacket was a nice touch here if a little seedy; like a porn-trolling adjunct professor between classes. Does he think the slight shade in his glasses is disguising his stare?

She hardly got her coat off before the bartender was delivering his message. “You know him?” she asked. “Mostly a day-drinker. Bets baseball, the simple bastard. Seems harmless enough.” He was watching her through the smoky lenses.

She nodded; he raised his glass slightly.


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