Hope you all enjoy. \tI make my way down the city block. The brick row homes loom over me like walls of those surrounding a large prison. Cars sit parked, lifeless, basking in the amber glow of street lights while most rest. The quiet of it all mimics the silence of a coffin. Not even nature seems alive. No breeze to combat the persistent mugginess of the night. Even the moon sits above, red, choked by a harsh day. \tI stop at a corner for the red light, seconds later sirens break the silence. Red and blue lights make the lonely city block feel like a movie set, as they pass I lock eyes with an officer in the passenger seat. He looks smug. Full on his own ego, wears his gun like a hammer and bears his badge like a sickle. No compassion to come from him. It makes me sick. Where were they when my brother was beat half to death. \tTwo more patrol cars pass, the light now green, I take queue and make my way across. At the end of this block sit's a corner store. Booze twenty four seven. I come up to the scummy door. It's glass has been stained by dirt that probably accumulated over months. I push it open. \tAs I enter, going from the dark ambers like out there I meet a cold harsh light. Everything reflects a cool blue hue. Feels more like a hospital hall then a corner store. It takes a moment, but my eyes adjust to the florescent light. The counter sits to the right of me, encased in bullet proof glass with a tired looking teen behind the counter. Cigarettes and candy surround him. No candy cigarettes to be found though. That would be wrong, what about the children. Coolers sit ahead. Filled with cold refreshing beverage running to the back wall. Plainly within the clerks line of sight. \tA large variety of chips decorate the shelf across from them. Cool Ranch Pretzel Nibblers, and Honey Mustard Cheese Curls. God I love junk food. Baked BBQ Chips, Salsa Potato Fries, and Flavor Sprayed Corn Chips. Can't neglect the dips. Those are the keys to flavor enhancement. Cheddar Burn, Sour Cream Supreme, Hot Thumb Salsa, and Mother Plumps Veggie Dip. Saliva floods my mouth at the sight of it all. \tI focus in on the coolers now, the reason of my being here. Six packs of Kentucky Mongoose, Misers Pale Ale, and Barrette Mountain Knock Out. All ok beers. But I'm looking for something with a little more class. Harry's Light n' Lime, Fowl Amber Light, and Upper Shores Light. Fuck light beer, taste like water, I want to taste my jaundice. I pass down two fridges, the imports catch my attention. Mickey's Extra Stout, Ze Ale, and Dirty Dog IPA. I jump at the IPA grabbing two six packs. \tI come up to the counter and plop down them down. Bottles clang together, its like the bells of church. Joyous and triumphant. Church has parishioners, beer has regular consumers. Same thing, right? The clerk points to the old school green led display. He must not know English. $12.50. Bills or beer. Beer. I pull my wallet from my rear pocket and pull a twenty. I place it in the metal slot. He takes it then hits some keys on the register. It dings and the display switches to $7.50. He looks at me and smiles then pushes my change through the slot. I grab it head for the door. \tI push my way through the door, back out to the lonely city block. The thick moisture of the air hits me like a wall. As I step from the doors I catch someone running in my peripheral. I realize it's a woman being followed by a man. I grip my fist around the handle of the six pack. She passes. NOW. I begin to swing the beer. Bottles making more noise as more energy goes into the swing. CRACK! I nail the man dead in face with the broad side of the sixer. I hear at least two break. The woman stops running and stares with a awe inspired expression. Now one knee holding his jaw, I waste no time and put my steel toe to his face. He goes down. I go down, checking his pulse, normal, still breathing, yea, he'll be fine. By the time I'm back up, the woman is standing next to me and the aroma of beer has flooded the air. \t“I'm at a loss for words.†\tShe sounds winded, and still excited by this incident. \t“Who is this?†I expel, somewhat in shock myself that I reacted like so. \t“I,…, I don't know, I was walking home from work, and he started following me. It, it went on like this about four or five blocks. I got frightened and started running, and he, ….†\t“ And he followed,…†Interrupting her, “ …, I think we should leave here now.†\t“Your probably right.†She turns to walk away, but stops and turns back to me. Her tone now somber and somewhat guilt ridden, “Do you think. That I could go home with you? I could make up for earlier. I know how to cook, I work at my dads diner. I prepare the meals.†\tShe begins to smile in spite of the what just occurred. “I mean if that isn't asking to much, I don't want to intrude.†\tI look at her and laugh. “I'll bring out the meal.†\tWe begin to walk away. I place my arm around her shoulder and she wraps hers around my side. The seemingly dead night no longer matters. I feel comfort in hers. Mid afternoon. Only a couple hours from dark. Rush hour. The finale of the day. People need to get home. Go to the bank. Pick the brats up from day care or school. Some are heading to work. Like me. \tIt's almost a magical time. New drivers on their cell phones. The elderly going to cash petty social security checks. It's a time out from turn signals and rational thought. Public transit vehicles litter the road ways, stopping every ten feet and moving slower then fuck. Then there is that ass hole on the bike. No, not a motor bike, but a bicycle, A fucking bicycle he chooses to ride out in cramped one way streets and ignoring lanes dedicated to him. It's enough to induce a brain aneurysm driven rage. \t“We need some music.†my passenger mumbles as he reaches out for the radio. \tThe speakers pump out some heavy metal, signer in full scream, and the guitarist whaling mid chorus. It startles me. The drunken drive home last night, must've blared the radio. I quickly turn the dial down. \t“Something more chill dude.†Looking at my brother. \tHe shrugs his shoulders “Yea, that's why I don't drink.†and rummages through his olive colored man purse. Takes my cd out of the player then shoves his in. Coldplay begins to flow through the speakers. \t“I said chill, not pussy pandering.†\tI hit the fm button and some old school rock fills the air. A car horn breaks the momentary peace, I look to the front of me, a clear road and green light. I hit the turn signal and charge to the intersection only to halt. Oncoming traffic is heavy, I'll be here till they have a red. The light begins to turn, traffic slows to a stop, I turn the wheel and make my left. \tNow something not so time consuming. No ‘Rights turns prohibited on Red' sign. No one mid left turn, I take the car onto the highway. Best of all, the road is clear. All those going home backed up on the other side of this divided highway. \tAfter some time on I-95, and two short lights, I come to the parking lot of my workplace. I drive past the lots for two other similarly themed restaurants. The one I'm heading for being the least interesting of the three. I go down the short driveway, past the complimentary valet, and park at the back of the lot. Done deal.