Floor

Carson swings his head around and eyes Misty suspiciously. “Hey…I know you…” He squints and points a finger at her, quirking an eyebrow. “And you shouldn’t be in a like…a this…place like this.”

The bartender throws a look at Misty, conveying his annoyance. “I serve who I want to, Miss. Around here we don’t have a limit, and he ain’t driving no vehicle.”

“That’s dang well right!” Carson’s palm slams down onto the counter. “A man who understand me – I like it!” He swivels the barstool back and forth, his nervous energy showing through his drunken state. “Ain’t nobody else who understands me, so I found my place, I did!”

“Of course you did.” The woman behind Misty downs a shot of liquor. “You fit right in here, Aussie.”

A grin plays at Carson’s mouth and he looks back to Misty, his eyes holding their glazed stare. “What did I tell ya? I bet you forgot I said once not to get involved with the likes of me, but I think you did, so here I am!” Throwing out both arms, he loses his balance again, and once more tumbles off onto the floor in a fit of laughter.