The Benton Street Diner, Baltiney, New York...
As per usual, whenever Misty entered a respectable establishment, all eyes had been on her and the endless supply of judgemental remarks and gossip always seemed to commence. She had gotten used to the most biting of remarks and scathing comments but she still heard them nonetheless. People often looked at her as someone no better than filth at the bottom of their shoes when in passing. Still, none had known what occurred in the tragic young woman's life that led her down the path of choosing survival over their basic understanding of dignity anyway. She moved toward the most secluded booth near a window and sat down. It had not escaped her notice that most of the men were staring for a far different reason than the women who had looked upon her.
She knew the telltale sign of a man amid arousal better than anyone. The flickering heat behind dark eyes, the constant uneasiness of having to pretend to suppress what they so badly desire. She could imagine that most of them had been of the mind to take her right there on one of the diner tables for all to see and that they'd even been of the mind that she might have enjoyed their contemptuous round of dick-jockeying just to appease their fragile egos.
Misty took a seat slid nearest the window and looked out at the rain falling heavily from the darkened sky and splattering along the ground and buildings. She couldn't think of a single time she'd been opposed to the rain, aside from having to travel in it, but she often loved watching it cascade down windows and fog up the air. There was a pleasantness and an equal sadness expressed in it as if the very heavens had been privy to her pain and elected to cry on her behalf.
"Welcome to Posey's Diner on Brenson Street." said one of the many waitresses who were employed at this fine establishment. "What can I getcha Hon?"
Misty noticed her name tag said Cat when she looked at the redhead woman who appeared to have been in her mid to late forties. She had bright dark brown eyes and smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. She wore a dark red outfit complete with a red and white skirt with white lace and black bordering with the name of the diner also inked in black along her back. She carried a small notepad and was well invested in the piece of pink bubble gum she'd been chewing as she spoke.
Misty noted her ruby red lips the thick eye shadow and the smokey appeal of her eyelids. It was a classic look that was for sure and a bit on the side of comical as the younger woman immediately thought of the old black and white television show "I Love Lucy" when seeing her.
"I'll take a bagel," replied Misty snapping out of her recollection of old television shows to answer the waitress. "Two halves with heavy cream cheese and a cup of black coffee on the side."
"Black coffee?" asked Cat the waitress with an arched brow.
"That's right," replied Misty wondering why she'd been so caught off guard.
"Alright Hon, coming right up," she said as she took her leave of Misty after scribbling the order on her small notepad.
Once she'd been gone, Misty turned her attention to counting the bills she had stuffed in her right shoe at the moment. Twelve hundred dollars was a lot for a girl like her and given that she had no pimp to take the majority of the money while leaving her with nothing she figured she did all right with her last three clients. The latest was a high roller and it paid off rather well.
It was enough to get her through the day as she could eat and buy something new to wear before the day was done. She knew the drill when shopping for a particular outfit that would only enhance her appeal when looking to attract new clients.
It had to be provocative, It had to be loose, and it had to command attention in the worst way. She had learned from the strung-out streetwalkers the do's and don't's of selling one's body for monetary gain and dressing like a rabid porn star always attracted the worst kind of filth looking for easy access and lacking in social graces. The best kind were the well-dressed and dapper men, but some were closeted freaks in their own right, but she often got more bucks for their bang.
Misty turned her attention to the rain again as the waitress cat approached with a small plate with a bagel cut in half and a good deal of cream cheese spread across the top of each. She also brought the hot white porcelain mug of the strongest black coffee Misty had ever smelled. She smiled politely at the girl in red and proceeded to take the order of the people from a different table as Misty slowly picked up her bagel and bit into it.
She knew she'd put an end to the rumbling of her stomach in no time as she sat quietly admiring the rain from behind the large thick rectangular window at her booth seat. Many a vehicle and person passed by amid the continuous drops and she often wondered why they always seemed to be in such a hurry.
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Across Town...
The Roadie Aparetment Complex, 8th and Primer Street, Baltiney New York...
The grey sedan belonging to one Richard Henry Grant pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, he turned off the engine once he rolled to a stop into his parking spot and managed to shuffle his way out of the car and up the numerous stairs to apartment 204, his current place of residence despite his tendency to sleep off his drunkenness in the parking lots of local bars. Rocco's was his most frequented place, but he had been known to do the same at other bars. Richard had been groggy from his earlier exploits and very much craving a drink as he finally reached his front door and unlocked it to step inside.
The place was surprisingly neat and clean, no doubt it was the doing of his best friend Donald Rutherford Porter's wife Rita Porter, as she often felt obligated to ensure something of his had been kept up after kicking the downtrodden man out of her house due to his drinking. Don worried for Richard's safety and wanted an easy means of keeping track of him just in case so he offered him a rent-free apartment in the complex he owned as a means of making a side income. It was a modest place, nothing too flashy and retro due to the decor, and a one bedroom with one bathroom through the bedroom a surprisingly spacious living room, a small kitchen connected to the living room, and a balcony view on the opposite side of his bedroom. Heavy blinds lined the windows and he seemed to prefer neutral colors in terms of the decor.
Richard initially rejected the idea, as he didn't have much use for a place being he'd been alone and out of a job. Don insisted fearful he'd end up dead if he were left to his own devices. To appease him, Richard agreed, ending the infighting between Don and Rita.
He had not wished to be the reason for them to have marital problems after what happened with his marriage. Rita often came to check on him for a piece of mind and stocked his fridge with food to appease her guilt at having kicked him out as well. Richard wasn't much for shopping unless it was to acquire more booze for his collection when the bars were closed and he couldn't get to one before the onset of DTs took hold of him.
The drunkard had been indulging for the past five years following his rather messy divorce and had not let up since. As a result of his heavy drinking, he couldn't go without it for more than a few hours.
Richard closed the door behind him as he tossed his keys onto the nearby countertop slowly took off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the beige sofa in the center of the small living room. He walked passed his television set and clicked it on for the sheer purpose of background noise and made his way back toward his bedroom unbuttoning his shirt and discarding it alone with his trousers after unbuckling his belt to get them off after kicking off his shoes and stepping into his bedroom.
The former Doctor, Richard stood at a towering six foot two inches in height and had to duck on occasion when passing beneath the narrow doorways. His slightly darkened skin was quite the contrast to his formerly white men's tank top shirt as he discarded it as well before stripping it down to his black boxer shorts and then out of them.
He was reasonably lean with broad shoulders in terms of muscle mass but he was quite well endowed as his cock swung against his thighs with each of his movements as limp as it had ever been due to his ongoing bout with erectile dysfunction courtesy of his drinking. Truth be told it was a problem he had before drinking but he had taken steps in the past to deal with it if only for his now ex-wife's sake.
He barely recalled the embarrassment he suffered when filing into another doctor's office and being examined while they noted his name and former credentials while asking for those ever so convenient "little blue pills". When he caught his wife cheating with her co-worker after his early return from job hunting, he had not disposed of the bottle instead, it traveled among his other belongings to this place where he shoved them into the medicine cabinet with everything else with his name on it. He of course took off the label beforehand, but he always knew what they were.
Richard sighed as he stepped into the bathroom and proceeded to climb into the tub and turn on the shower. The moment he did the heated water seemed to batter his darkened skin as he stood amid the steam and leaned his palms against the tile. He could still see Katherine, her legs high in the air as the resident scumbag pumped his hips between her legs. During the altercation that soon followed, Richard had noted the prick had been smaller than him but what was an advantage of size when he couldn't even get it to work?
Katherine Myers had been his high school sweetheart and they set about building a life together that very few from their old neighborhood could have ever dreamed of only for her to betray him, in the end, following his false malpractice suit and subsequent loss of his license and moderately successful practice.
The only friend he had in the world had been Don before his meeting Rocco Morgan, who was his final lawyer in the case against his ex-wife. She got everything including their two children in the end and he was left with broken promises, old memories, and a good deal of pain in the process.
Naturally, he turned to the one thing that could see him through after all that, a nice round glass of the darkest whiskey he could find.
Richard continued his shower amid the sounds of the television and the rain beating against the rooftops and along his windows. He had not thought about his ex-wife or his now college-aged son and daughter in five years. They had been the only real proof aside from most of his hard-earned money being in her greedy possession, that Richard and Katherine had ever even known each other at all.