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Miz Emily

Miz Emily

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Published by Ian Bahas

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Published by: Ian Bahas on Apr 10, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Ian Bahas
Sleep well my friend and dream of large women“Another day, another dollar. Another drunk, another holler” Emily Thomas thought toherself as she served up another shot of whiskey. She always did enjoy making up a rhyme ortwo, no matter how bad or corny, especially when she was a bad mood. She almost hopedsomebody would cause trouble tonight so she could bust some heads, despite the fact that shealways seemed to cause more destruction to her own saloon than the troublemakers them-selves. Emily, or Miss Emily as she was called around these parts was a big woman. A well-muscled, but curvy six foot five with regular, some would even say pretty features, tanned,weather-beaten skin, a nose that looked like it had been broken many times in the past, andblack hair and eyes. Most of the men around the town thought of her more as a man than awoman. Indeed, her friends were for the most part men, with many of the women calling her agiantess or a cow. Some might say this is justified, as most of their husbands spent many anight in her saloon, The Dirty Mustache and she will often banter back and forth with her pa-trons long into the night.Today was the anniversary of the reason she came to this town 15 years ago, searchingfor a new life under a new name with only the clothes on her back and a big sack of money. Nomatter how much she tries to forget it, no matter how much she tries to distract herself with thebustle of a full saloon, the memories remain at the front of her mind. The mind is funny like that.Try calling up the happiest moment of your life. See how long sticks in your mind. Now try callingup the most traumatic moment in your life and see how long that sticks in your head. Which one
Ian Bahas
sticks longer? I thought so. Tonight is the only night of the year that you will ever see Miss Emilytake more than a sip of her own alcohol, mostly at the end of the night when the patrons have allleft. The one time she did decide to drink with her patrons she ended up waking up in bed withthe sheriff, his wife, and leg of one of her favorite barstools with none of them having any memo-ry of what happened the previous night. To this day the three of them (the barstool leg wasburned before it could be reached for comment) will deny that anything happened that night oth-er than the fact that it was “a helluva party.”Thankfully, it was a sunday and most of her regulars refrained from drinking on this holi-est of days (mostly at the insistence of their wives). As she finished polishing a glass she heardthe “ding-a-ling” of the bell that announced a patron entering the saloon, exiting the saloon, orgetting thrown against the bell. Thankfully it was the first one, and her two favorite patrons (andfriends) to boot! ‘Edwin, Travis. What can I get ya?” Emily asked as they sat down at the bar.“I can name a few things, but let’s start out with some whiskey and see where things gofrom there” Edwin replied with a wink. Emily mocked throwing the glass she was polishing athim while Edwin ducked, wearing an exaggerated mask of fear on his rough face.Travis snorted, half with amusement half with derision “Will you ever grow up Edwin?”Edwin drew himself up and puffed out his chest.“Hopefully not, i’ve seen how those so called ‘adults’ act, always with the weight of theworld on their shoulders, yet still somehow keeping their noses in the air while i’m sticking minein a pretty young woman.”. Miss Emily laughed in spite of herself,
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“I’ve seen some of the woman you’ve been with. I’ve seen prettier hogs”. She retorted,her dark mood lifting just a bit.This was business as usual for the three of them, with Edwin telling terrible, often bawdy jokes, MIss Emily responding with a witty, often acidic retort, and Travis trying to keep Edwin incheck. Edwin was a tall, lean, rangy man with brown hair, brown eyes, and craggy features. Hewas generally a good person, but had a penchant for tasteless jokes that only got worse as hebecame more and more inebriated. Despite his social commentary, he worked as an accoun-tant at the local 30th Federal Bank branch. He often saved his most bawdy jokes for Miss Emily,however, as a way to cover his attraction for this large, exotic (at least in his mind) woman.Travis seemed to be almost the exact opposite of his friend. Five foot six inches and broadshouldered, with pale blonde hair and what most people would call a baby face. One wouldthink with his sober demeanor, a great respect for propriety, and what seems like a constant irri-tation at Edwin’s often tasteless jokes that they would be the farthest thing from friends. Under-neath his serious exterior, however, was an understated sense of humor and a kind of brotherlylove for his often outrageous friend. While Edwin often did got drunk to the point where he couldbarely even stand, Travis generally stayed sober, instead enjoying the company of his twofriends. When he did get drunk, however, he had a tendency towards singing. Terribly. It wasn’tso much his voice, which was a rich baritone, but his tendency to make up notes which couldnot be named or played on any instrument, unless donkey is an instrument.

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