The Mercenary Soldier
Casually,he mentioned he was an alpha male,between his name,rank and beer of choice.Around his neck hungan unspent bullet. He saidit was some gunman's superstitionabout cheating death,a secondhand pick-up line thatturned me on between whiskey sours.I did end up in his motel room.Nothing better to doand Keyser, West Virginiais less boring in Summer,when the tanned boysworking on Corridor Hroll into Clancy'sonto the stool next to mineand eventually ask, breathreeking of youth and courage,
What's a girl like you doing here
,I always answer,
But he didn't ask.He brushed himself against the back of my jeans,as I lined up cue stick to cue ballto number nine and asked meto draw it back slow.