All in the eyes

The sun had set hours ago and the cold night air had settled over the desert. The lone road that passed through the area was empty save for Misha’s car. He flicked his cigarette butt out the window as he drove, the small ember sucked away into the night behind him. He eyed the long road ahead of him and watched as one of the lights flickered out in the distance. His high beams reflected off a sign on the side of the road as he drove. “Gas and food, guess I can stop for a bit,” he said, and pressed his foot down on the pedal, taking advantage of the empty roads. Misha could soon see the gas station in the distance, its florescent lights like a beacon in the desert night. He pulled the old car into the near empty lot and put it in park. He turned off the car and stepped out. He looked across the parking lot at what appeared to be a bar, the kind you might find truckers and bikers in. Not so surprisingly, the lot of the bar was filled with rows of motorcycles all awaiting their owners. He pressed on and made his way to the door of the store. He entered and caused the little welcome bell at the top to ring. The employee behind the counter looked up from the small TV he was watching and sneered at Misha. He turned his attention back to the small screen. With a roll of his eyes, Misha continued into the isles. His eyes scanned over the varies shelves that contained clearly expired foods. He turned on his heel and walked up to the counter, where the store clerk waited. “Excuse me, can I get thirty on pump one,” he said, and rested his hands on the filthy counter. The clerk spit something into the trashcan beside him before turning to face Misha. “You got the cash, we don’t take no credit cards,” he said and wiped his nose with his forearm. “Of course you don’t,” he replied and withdrew three tens from his wallet. He slid the money across the counter and waited. The clerk took the cash and placed it into the register. “Did you need something else?” he asked and gave Misha a side glance. “Does the bar next door serve food?” Misha asked and glanced back out the window. “It isn’t good, but they got food,” he replied and gave Misha his receipt. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said and took the slip of paper. He walked to the door and exited the store. After he restarted his car he pulled it alongside the gas pump. As he filled his car he watched as three men pulled up to the bar on their bikes. The men dismounted their vehicles and made their way to the bars entrance, as they entered the loud sounds from inside blared into the night. Misha finished refueling the car and pulled his car back into a parking spot, he figured it was safer then parking by all the bikes. He walked the short distance to the bar. The noise from inside grew louder as he approached. The exterior of the bar was reminiscent of a western style saloon, and riddled with neon lights. He opened the door and was immediately met with the smell of beer and motor oil. He scanned the rather large room which was packed with bikers. This was made apparent by their clothing and demeanor. They spoke loud and were rough with each other, beer flew from glasses and coated the floor in a sticky layer. Misha made his way through the crowd and headed straight to the bar where there were more than enough seats open. He sat down on the stool at the corner and waited for the bartender to take notice. The bartender, an older woman with graying hair, finished serving two large bikers who took their drinks and made off into the crowd. “And remember any and all rough housing goes outside,” she said after them, her voice raised. She turned and saw Misha seated at the bar. “Well looks like we have a new face, I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you before, darling,” she said in a kind tone. “Yeah, I’m just passing through and heard the food here was pretty good,” he said and mustered up a smile. “Now I know you must be a charmer, cause that was a lie the food here is awful darling,” she said with a chuckle. “Awful is better than nothing,” he replied and smirked. “Well I hope your stomach can back up all that talk, how does a burger sound?” she asked. “Perfect, thank you,” he said and pulled out some cash. “Alright darling, I’ll just be a sec let me get you a beer while you wait,” she said and turned to pour him a drink. He took the beer she handed him and watched her walk off into what he assumed was the kitchen. Once she was out of sight he took sip from his drink. He turned his head to glance at the people around him. The majority of the bar was filled with large bikers, save for few women spread out among the crowd. He turned back to face the bar when he felt movement beside him. He looked to his left and noticed a woman now seated beside him. Her raven black hair concealed her face. He looked back at the door the bartender had left through.