Destroying Men

The evenings came and went, the sun sank, the suits poured in, drinks were ordered, cigars were smoked, the sun rose, the suits slipped out. He showed up without warning and without pattern. Always at different times and never wearing the same outfit. He never drank. Not scotch, nor whiskey. A glass of water never touched his lips.The most peculiar facet was that He did not have a tell.

Though I had only been working for a few months, I knew that even the king of the cards had a tell and even better I knew what it was. Every man, young and old alike had some sign. A twitch of the lip, looking towards one of the waitresses for a refill that let the other table members know he was bluffing. Depending on the urgency in their eyes you could even tell just how hard they were bluffing. But He did not have a tell. Even when he raised and lost there was nothing to give him away.

With the December chill fighting through all of the cracks this underground escape had, the rest of the girls and I prepared to close down for the rest of the year. Christmas through the New Year was always a time to escape the world of wrong doings and pretend we had normal jobs. Maybe we worked at a movie theater tearing ticket stubs, or we were simple maids. Anything that didn't involve repressing all overheard conversations and ignoring sly looks from men old enough to be our fathers.

I stowed the last bottle of liquor under the counter and began wiping down the bar top when He walked over. I could feel his gaze on me, my hands, my arms , my shoulders, my neck. "Miss." I had never heard his voice before, and I did not expect such a lovely dark and deep voice to be His. I stopped the monotonous circular motion and looked up at Him. This was also the first time I had ever really seen him full on, not obscured by a balding head or hidden by long shadows. He seemed to posses this hollowness that was been hiding inside him. Clinging to his bones and pulling inwards with all its might. His eyes were cold blue and sunken, framed by thick lashes and the dark circles of a man who got little sleep. Thin lips that were clearly chapped by the frigid wind and disheveled hair. But there was something hansom about him too. A way that his hollowness accentuated his strong jaw and lean figure. I felt overwhelmed with the want to understand Him. To know each and every inch of his tall, hollow body. To pick away at his normative silence. I wanted to be responsible for fixing his disheveled hair and filling his hollowness.

"Sir?"

"I am quite aware of the waning hour; if it is not too much of a hassle, may I order a drink?"

"Certainly, sir.", He had quickly upended all that I thought I knew. A full sentence and a request for a drink had slipped from his lips and now in the dimly lit room he was cracking a smile.

"Rum. No ice." I poured his drink then returned to cleaning up the last bit of the counter. "Miss, if I may be so bold as to ask your name?"

"Jane, sir."

"Miss Jane, you are most certainly not required to call me sir." He finished his drink and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. He fished into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a handful of chips, "For you Jane, a portion of my winnings." He chuckled to himself and sauntered out the front door leaving close to five thousand dollars in chips on the counter.

A curvaceous, all knowing girl approached me and stared at the chips on the table with dead eyes. "Don't go down that road."

"What road?"

"Being some rich mans slut. Trust me, I have been there before. You do not want to go down that road because that road leads to trouble and heartache. It's better if you don't."

"I can't. I don't even know His name."

"They don't want you to."