Albert enjoyed travel. Move 3,000 miles, or ten, and you reached a different place. Well, duh, you might say, but that would be to misunderstand. The places weren’t what Albert craved—palm trees or snow huskies equally a matter of complete indifference. What mattered was the difference—new in a bar where nobody knew his name.
He slid onto the stool in the hotel bar and ordered a sidecar, because that’s what a guy like him drank. The blonde on the next stool eyed him. Tipping his fedora at a rakish angle, he smiled.
“Hiya, little lady.”
“Scram, loser.”
.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here
Neil MacDonald Author 
I looked up the drink and can see why she brushed him off.
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Thanks for reading, James
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Of all the gin joints in all the towns, he picked that one – better luck next time, Albert
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It was all going so well, too
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Methinks his aura reads a well-travelled and ahem, loved guy…
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He certainly thinks so
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He’s a living tale of two cities. They have the best stories, the worst habits, but will break your heart when they move on. Townes Van Zandt comes to mind.
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Thanks so much, Lisa
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You’re very welcome.
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p.s. Good story, Neil!
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The reception that all travellers seem to get. A good character piece.
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Thanks so much, James
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Dear Neil,
So much for anonymity. She had his number regardless. 😉
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Sadly for him, yes
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oh no, i didn’t expect that. poor fellow. 😦
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Thanks for reading
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🤣 that really tickled my funny bone Neil 🙌
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Thanks so much
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This made me smile – I liked the feeling for the time period and that he looked for a place that’s the opposite of Cheers and found it.
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Thanks so much, Sheila
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In a bar where no one knows his name. That sounds shady right there! Great story, he got a serve, didnt he!
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Thanks so much, Fleur
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