Ride The Lightning - Episode 24

Stop For The Night
I’m not a people person. As I’ve noted I’m more of a Lone Wolf kinda guy. Even so I feel the need to be around people sometimes. I think being shot up by those Bandits might have had something to do with it but I’m not sure. At any rate…after only a couple or three thousand miles that day, I felt a need to get out of the truck.
“Trog” I said…”are there any truck stops near here?”
“Checking” he said, then almost instantly “Google maps indicate that there is one two exits ahead.”
“Three questions.” I said “Can we get to it easily enough? Has it got a big enough lot for you and does it have restaurant.?”
“Yes, Yes and Yes” Trog replied.
“Good enough…we’re stopping. I’m hongry…and I want to hassle a waitress. Maybe they got a purty one.” I said as I got up, stretched my legs, and made myself presentable.”Give Mary a heads up will you? Play nice while I’m inside. Don’t kill anyone without a damn good reason.”
“Roger that” he said “I’ve informed Mary…she will comply.”
I put on my legs and dressed up real pretty. No reason to scare anyone, much. And I did, and we did…and they did, and she did. For some values of not scary, easy enough, big enough, and purty…enough. Not a very high bar…at that point she only had to be female. Come to think…perhaps that was even negotiable.
I was eager to meet some new people.
I got stared at pretty hard walking across the parking lot. It wasn’t my fault that my bionic legs looked like wolf legs, or that I was so tall while wearing them. My niece told me one time that the digitigrade construction had something to do with the cybernetics, balance and functionality. I dunno…I’m a trucker, a point man, former military…and….well never mind, I’m a lot of things.
Specialization is for ants. I’m not an ant. I’m also not a cybernetic robotic mastermind. I took her word for it.
I went inside and ordered my meal.
“Ma’am” I said to the waitress, yup..she was purty. “I’ll have a double bacon, pulled pork, triple cheese burrito.”
“Hsssss” I heard a guy behind me say. “Evil Monster. Vile flesh eater…the consumption of dead meat, particularly the flesh of swine in my presence is offensive.”
I was standing at the counter. I hadn’t found a table yet. I turned and looked down at him. I’m close to seven foot tall wearing my legs. He looked liked he’d bit into a lemon.
“Do tell.” I said. I turned to back the waitress. “Have you got any beer?”
Her eyes were as big as saucers. She looked scared. She nodded.
“Have you got any BLACK beer? Any the color of my skin or darker? ” I asked. I pushed back a shirtsleeve a little bit..to show her.
She nodded again.
I heard the hissss again. It was that feller. He was beginning to annoy me.
“Vile carrion eater. The consumption of Alcohol is disgusting. If you drink it in my presence you will offend me.” He said again.
I nodded his way.”Tough titty.”
I turned to the waitress. “How ’bout you bring me one of them burritos and a big stein of that black beer ok?”
She scurried off, and returned with a large beer. The guy who was so easily offended hit me across the back with a chair, spilling my beer.
THAT was was the last straw. The chair broke, naturally. I was wearing my Armadillo hoodie, since it was too warm for my duster. Same non-newtonian inserts though. I love that stuff. I turned and looked at him. I hobbled close and looked down at him. Then I leaned forward, eye to eye, nose to nose almost. “That was rude.”
He pulled a knife and stabbed me.
Didn’t hurt. My body armor stopped it. Now I’m a patient man, usually. It takes a lot to rile me. He managed to do that. Trying to stab me is one thing…spilling my beer is another. I was gonna swat him anyway. The knife was just extra justification. He’d broken ZAP…I no longer had any reason to be Mr. Nice guy. I retaliated with proportional force. I gave him the old Texas High School ForeArm Shiver. The non-newtonian ballistic gel protecting my forearm hardened instantly when I hit him. It probably felt like I hit him with a baseball bat. He fell to the floor out cold. Possibly he had a broken neck.
I didn’t care… he’d spilled my beer.
Never do that.
To Be Continued
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