100 Below - The Bartender

I regarded the bartender. He was young, perhaps 25, but there was a world-weariness in his countenance that spoke to a short lifetime of difficulties. Those difficulties were etched into his body. His tattooed arms and chest were a canvas of Celtic symbols, plants, and zombies. His earlobes had been cut and were distended, looking like three fleshy icicles.

Then there was the tremble. The boy’s hands shook, ever so slightly. But they constantly shook.

I wondered about his short past and his story, as I sipped the most delightful cocktail he concocted for me on the spot.

No Comments »
Leave a Comment!

Please note: Comments may be moderated. It may take a while for them to show on the page.

Back To Main

    About Naked Villainy

    • maxldr

    Villainous
    Contacts

    • E-mail your villainous leader:
      "maxldr-blog"-at-yahoo-dot-com or
      "maximumleader"-at-nakedvillainy-dot-com

    • Follow us on Twitter:
      at-maximumleader

    • No really follow on
      Twitter. I tweet a lot.

Because you like a gun-owning blogger with huge goddamn balls.

    Villainous Commerce

    Villainous Sponsors

      • Get your link here.

      Villainous Search