Straight Tequila Night

Fidgeting unease would start becoming ascertained from the devout patrons inside the bar, a scattered minority beginning to check their watches and the time off their cell phones before starting to make the preamble motions of exiting the premises. Anxiety riddled haste to their movements alongside dejected reservation as they silently ushered themselves towards the back exit rather than continuing to indulge in the dive bar's rustic aesthetic, a felicitous warmth earned through both it's decades of accommodating the world-wearied customers seeking a peaceable haven from their daily lives and it's unyielding fortitude in the face of whatever countless volatile scuffles it's bore witness to over the years. And yet in spite of the welcomed cordiality within, bartenders with encyclopedic knowledge of drinks, engrossing ambiance of its weathered backdrop and the chilled frigidity awaiting anyone outside thanks to Winter's brittle embrace, a subtle migration was nevertheless taking place. Drinks paid for and hats taken off the racks as the grizzled bartender directed a sideways glance towards the main entrance...


"Yo, straight smoked those fools!!!"





Headstrong youths swarmed forth in an aggressive testing of the door's hinges, each one adorned in leather jackets and street clothing that varied in individuality, yet each delinquent was tied together by a symbolic caricature of a dragon brandished upon one aspect of their attire. The wooden floor boards creaking beneath the avalanche of sneakers and boots stamped into the floor with a path cleared wherever they roamed. Rambunctious defiance associated with a mob mentality seemingly allowing them ownership of the premises as they bumped shoulders from patrons too terrified to object. The brash hoodlums scattering all around with several ordering pitches of beer from the bartender. Others snatching seats from tables frequented by other customers and barstools to be brought towards the corner pool table and accompanying jukebox right beside it. Ushering other people away who were enjoying a game of pool under threats of violence they were clearly accustomed to but capitulated regardless from their numbered advantage. This street gang staking claim to their territory within the dive bar to the focused and irate attention of every other patron rattled by the raucous.

???:

Squirreled within the cacophony of machismo laden ego was a lone figure acting as the sole epicenter of the human hurricane, a brilliant radiance to her blonde ponytail who seemed more content to kick her feet up and scroll through her smartphone with a pop of her bubble gum than reigning in the chaotic vortex tempestuously swirling all around her. Thrash metal circumventing the melodic jazz soulfuls previously played on the jukebox which was now held hostage beside the street gang now racking up the pool balls for a fresh game. "Tch, every Friday these punks make a mess of the joint..." The bartender beside Lorena muttered in his graveled voice as he started pouring the brews requested upon by the gang member at the bar. Kanji tattoo's and earpiercings being an ill-advised adornment to his appearance, although his predilection towards bad decisions continued onward as he noticed Lorena standing right beside him. "Yooo, Mamacita~...Yer lookin' a little lonely standin' watch over here by the bar. Whaddya say you come come join me with the boys over there. Night's just gettin started and we're lookin' to set off some fireworks, if you know wha I'm sayin~..."

The wolfpack mentality which accompanied the rambunctious delinquents upon their boisterous arrival had simultaneously usurped the watering hole's docile tranquility, and instilled braggadocios overconfidence within each gang member as they staked claim to the bar. The crew of hoodlums conducting themselves like any typical street gang banded together like a linked chain through a blood stained brotherhood, which was a solid foundation for coordination through teamwork...except in their case it ultimately enabled a reckless and foolhardy bravado to be fostered. One based not on their own individual strengths and accomplishments but solely on the basis of them winning the numbers game against any brave soul who dared to object to their miscreant mischievousness. The bar's regular patrons squirming in their seats and casting sideways glances towards the disturbers of their peace, one of whom continuing to mack on the smokin' hot latina showing him a frigid cold shoulder.

"Eh? You like that, huh?~..." The gang member sneering deviously and using his free hand to stretch his jacket out, showcasing the dragon insignia prominent on himself and his fellow delinquents. "What you've got in yer hands right there is the symbol of the Flaming Dragons, babe. You're in the presence of the gang that's gonna run this whole city one of these days. Shit, the boys and I just got back from stompin' a mudhole in our rivals over by the piers and makin' them scatter like lil' baby bitches. And we don't need no princess when we got our very own Dragon Queen sittin' right over there." An index finger was briefly pointed towards the pony-tailed blonde scrolling through the messages on her smartphone before she hocked a spit into an adjacent spittoon. Distantly aloof as she idled away her time while precariously leaning backward on the edges of her chair with both legs crossed and perched upon the table which other gang members were beginning to play Poker on.

"That right there's the boss lady. See how we're all progressive with woman's rights and chick's in leadership roles and all that bullshit?" A swill of his beer taken as the gang member continued pressing his luck as he finished his gulp with a bellowed burp, casting his head to the side away from Llorena first though as the gentleman he is. "Hey, why don't I introduce ya to the boss lady if you're so interested in our gang? Ya kinda look like you can hold yer own in a fight, and maybe if you impress us after showin' us what yer made of we can even let ya join. And hey even if not, I wouldn't mind you showing me everything you're made of, if ya know wha ahm sayin~..." A sly tilting down of his shades allowing the delinquent to shoot Llorena a wink and perhaps getting his sleazy point across. And if that didn't, the arm he'd start wrapping around the Latina's shoulders may. "Name's Shinji, by the way. And to whom do I owe the pleasure? Or would you rather I keep you calling you my mamacita~..."