A Girl's Guide to Being Jilted | ✓

04 | In Which There is Sage Advice

Elain was long gone but I still stood alone on the porch. Hell, the whole street. Even old Mr Hannigan — who I was shocked to see because I presumed he had gotten lucky and shuffled off his mortal coil — had gone inside, leaving only his empty chair and the wind chimes tinkling in the wind.

I noticed the breeze was a tad faster than when I stepped out but at the moment I didn’t care.

I need a drink.

Elain had succeeded in reminding me of how bad things in my life were and now I needed to forget.

I looked to the driveway where the Beetle was parked and found that someone had finally found the courage to shut the trunk.

Now that Elain was gone I didn’t need to keep up the ruse that I was driving out so there was no need to even get in the stupid car.

But I really needed alcohol and the only place I knew to get it would take me hours to reach on foot.

Giving out a long sigh, I let out a string of curses before unlocking the door.

The driver’s seat was even more uncomfortable than the passenger seat if that was even possible, and it took me several tries adjusting the seat until I was sure I wouldn’t end up paralyzed from the waist down after this little drive.

Starting the engine I made my way through town using the routes less frequented by anyone even remotely capable of recognizing me. Of course, everyone knew my mom’s odd car but it would take them a second to figure out who the strangely familiar woman she had lent it to was and that was all I needed to zoom by.

It was like watching eight years in five minutes as I drove by.

Most of the buildings I’d left were either abandoned or stripped down to make room for increasingly taller buildings.

I was happy that Ernest was opening up but there was a twinge of sadness in my gut at the change.

My destination was one of the few places that hadn’t changed a bit.

Morty’s was located in a part of town that we had affectionately dubbed the After Dark District. Or The ADD.

The ADD contained all the 18+ establishments such as the casinos, strip clubs and bars. In other words, all the fun vices. The underaged were strictly forbidden and it was a consensus that whatever happened in The ADD, stayed in The ADD. Think Vegas but with fewer bright lights and the ability to get away with a fake ID.

It was bright out but the purple neon lights at Morty’s still blazed and crackled with electricity as I pushed the door open.

It looked a lot bigger on the inside than the last time I’d been here. A stage ran along the entire east side of the interior and in front of it were arranged tables and chairs. The bar occupied the other side with a walkway separating the two sides.

The walls were adorned with rock posters, dartboards and spotted a fresh coat of the signature purple that Morty’s was known for.

I stepped up to the bar all the while digging into the pocket of my jeans.

“I’ll take whatever this,” I slammed a couple of bills onto the counter, “can get me.”

The bartender regarded me for a second then shook his head. “I don’t know how I feel about serving you alcohol, Denise.”

“Why is everyone instantly recognizing me? It’s been eight years, Bob.”

“True, but there’s only one person who can make that unruly mop of curls work,” he winked.