Grease-Fire Annie

Latigo Flint is a silent, stoic, man of action. Sympathy, counterproductive in any form, is a foreign emotion to a man such as Latigo Flint. And as such, Latigo Flint has never been very good at consoling girls - especially girls who recently lost all features that make a face look human in a horrible grease fire.

Grease-fire Annie is the bar regular no one sees. One look at her charred and twisted face and even the bravest begin to retch uncontrollably. Retching patrons are very bad for business so Bartender Gus set up a special table in a hidden corner for her where she sits every night, drinking and whispering softly to herself.

The other night, the bar was empty and it was very close to closing time when for some reason Grease-Fire Annie choose to leave her hiding place and approach Latigo Flint. Latigo Flint was slumped against the bar, trying halfheartedly to teach the lyrics of R.E.M's End of the World as we Know It to a handful of bar nuts, and didn't see her approach.

"Can I talk to you Latigo?" Her voice was low and mushy. I was busy glaring at a cashew who couldn't seem to holler: Leonard Bernstein!, in time with the others and her words didn't register. She gently touched my shoulder.
"Latigo, please." Startled I looked up and instantly began to retch uncontrollably.

Five minutes later I regained my composure and by staring at a point five inches above and to the left of her bacon rind ear I was able to accompany her back to her table and attempt to give the conversation and social interaction she so desperately needed.

We spoke randomly for a few minutes, the weather, favorite songs on the jukebox and such, then without warning she broke down and began to sob.
"Oh God Latigo, who's going to love me?! Who's ever going to love me now?!" My mind raced. "Umm, Bartender Gus likes you. He likes you a bunch." I gestured around at her tiny enclosure. "Best seat in the place - and reserved for you every night." She cried harder, tears gushing now and tumbling down her blasted visage.
"Goddamn it Latigo - Gus loathes me!" She wiped her eyes and looked sorry for the outburst. When she spoke again it was in a near whisper. "Gus pities me. He loathes me and he pities me. Who is ever going to love me." That time it wasn't a question, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief.

We sat in silence for many minutes, then I stood to leave. I mustered up all my intestinal strength and stared directly into her cloudy eyes. "It was very lovely talking to you Annie. We must do it again sometime." She gave me a tiny smile - probably the first she'd attempted since the accident.
"Bless you Latigo. When you look at me like that it gives me hope that I'll find love." I gulped, suddenly very very nervous. She continued, "Hope that someday I'll find a man exactly like you - except of course, a heterosexual version of you."

I nearly yelled my shock and outrage but at the last instant, wiser thoughts prevailed. With a slight sashay in my hips I took a step toward her and placed my hand on hers.
"You go girlfriend. You go!" The words were bile in my throat but I managed to make them sound just as sweet and sassy as can be.

On the way home I stopped and purchased a copy of Guns & Ammo, Field & Stream, a SI Swimsuit Edition and a tin of Skoal - and not the minty flavor either.