D2-LE: An Itch to Scratch [Scratch Bar]

[Tiffani Noelle]

"Scratch Bar? Really?" Tiffani said to herself in a rather incredulous voice. "What kind of name is that?" As she said those few words, her teeth chattered so hard that she had difficulty understanding even herself. She had walked up and down Main Street at least five times because, well, quite simply - she had nowhere else to go. She thought about leaving town and continuing south, but that was too dangerous. Getting caught out in the open at night in these temperatures - with nothing but corn to help you - was almost certain death. And she didn't have one of those fancy-shmancy wireless phones everyone else seemed to have.

She looked at the entrance to the bar and sighed. Tiffani didn't want to go in there because she was reasonably sure what she'd find: A gaggle of old men playing checkers and reading the paper while, at the bar, a semi-rowdy collection of macho alpha males getting drunk. The only other women in there, she suspected, was the long-suffering bartender who fended off "roman hands and russian fingers" every night. But that was better than freezing to death.

In she walked and beelined right for a quiet table located in the half-light of a corner. Tiffani had no idea if this bar had table service or not, but she didn't care. She fished her wallet out of her backpack, took out a few precious bills, and tucked them under her leg. The backpack went under the table.

By all the gods that be, she was so cold!! Her nose, cheeks, hands, and feet throbbed painfully as both warmth and sensation began to return. All Tiffani cared about was getting warm; she was so intent on that and that alone that she didn't even bother observing who else might be in there until at least 10 minutes later. No one had offered to take her order yet, either. Oh well. She doubted they served hot chocolate in a place like this, and a cold drink would be about as helpful as someone dropping an ice cube down her shirt.

Having nothing else to do except soak up the warmth, she folded her arms across her chest, closed her eyes, and focused on the conversation, the gossip, and the hijinks going on at the bar.