Sheri Strobaugh is stumped…Wing Nuts, the contest, continues!

You may be stumped but at least you are well rooted. Literati!  As I have said-an original thought, by the way, “(re)Build it, and they will come!” Sheri Strobaugh felt the pulsations through cyberspace that A Word with You Press was being solicitous, once again, and had a contest. Or a little bird told her(that …

You may be stumped but at least you are well rooted.

Literati!  As I have said-an original thought, by the way, “(re)Build it, and they will come!”

Sheri Strobaugh felt the pulsations through cyberspace that A Word with You Press was being solicitous, once again, and had a contest. Or a little bird told her(that would be Horace, the All-tease Falcon that is our trophy for this contest.) http://www.awordwithyoupress.com/2013/05/04/wing-nuts-our-new-contest/

 

Sheri has named her story after her favorite sleaze bar:

The Stump

by Sheri Strobaugh

 

It’s 10:30 pm and here I sit, laughter bubbling up around me.  The guffaws of my friends, thinking their jokes were actually funny.  Everyone’s living it up.

The Stump.  Yep, that’s the name of this snazzy dive.  Rugged, ripped brown leathered seats and wobbly burl tabletops are as old as some of the patrons here.  The jukebox in the corner was spitting out some Meryl.

Why did I agree to come?  I was just sucking the energy out of the room. Get over yourself, Piper.  Get a grip. I’ll just have to wing it.  I called the barkeep over and ordered a Manhattan, triple cherries.  Okay, feeling better.  Old cranky face scowled when I ordered triple cherries.  Ha!

When he handed me my drink, I looked him dead in the eye, “You are so wonderful!  Thanks for spoiling me!”  For a nano-second I saw a twinkle…then off he grumbled.

I popped a cherry between my teeth and was starting to relax.  I tipped my libation back, I felt the drink quench my lips and tingle my tongue.  Looking up from my glass, he was standing right in front of me.

Hacking like a dog on crack, I felt several well meaning slaps on my back.  Flushed with embarrassment, I said still hunched over, “I’m fine!  It just went down the wrong tube!”

“Damn you Jake Myer for making me react like an idiot!!”  He scooped me up, his lips melted into mine…

 

 

 

 

 

6 comments

  1. White Dragon says:

    So good to read Strobaugh again. Sometime before I die I would like to witness a dog on crack. Not that for entertainment, but the image needs a back up. Oh well, so old, so little time, and a wobbly burl to you too.

  2. 1948pdobbs says:

    Sheri,
    I really like the exchange between your heroine and the bartender. I don’t know why it should, but I am always surprised at what kindness does to the meanest bully on the block. It wasn’t over done, just “a twinkle”. You know how to paint a picture, my new friend.
    Blessings, pd

  3. I love the way you create a totally different space in your story than the other stories I’ve read. The place becomes a character in your writing, and I like the dance you do with the space, the drinks, the cherries, and the other inanimate objects in the story that feed the engine of the story.

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