Chapter 2
"What a strange place." Lucas thought as he crawled back into the cab to finish the paperwork. In the back of his mind a small voice replied that that was an understatement.
The Tavern, as far as he could tell, was a place where people could get away. Get away from their homes, their jobs, their troubles, but mostly from reality. Nearly everyone had been dressed in some outlandish costume or uniform from any number of Sci fi, steam punk, or medieval gothic reality they wished to escape to. Role playing at its wildest. Right down to the prop weaponry. From realistic looking guns to old archaic blades, every age and specialty was there. But no fighting was a rule strictly enforced within those walls.
And such costumes he had seen. Mardi Gras had nothing on them with their elaborate workmanship and wild features. From the black fox in his hooded robe, who had the cleverly designed and his LED eyepiece under that red and black gothic hairstyle. To the three headed dragoness with its fully animated heads. He could only imagine the money that went into such outfits. Probably more than he would make this year.
This was definitely an interesting place to deliver to, especially considering its alcohol policies. There were no alcohol sales. All alcohol was free as long as you were of age. Of course you had to be 18 to get in. The alcohol was bought using donations from its patrons, which also helped pay its other bills. He didn't want to think of how much those donations amounted to, considering the alcohol he had delivered.
As far as the Tavern itself, it was woefully misnamed. The two story building was a marvel in and of itself. Three stories if you count the basement. The main floor, which was the largest, consisted of the bar/kitchen area, restrooms, walk-in cooler, and the main room. The main room was enormous, filled with the largest pool he had ever seen, three hot tubs, five fireplaces and more couches than he had ever seen in one place. Over the pool was a large skylight, big enough to land a Huey helicopter on. The second floor ringed the skylight and consisted of nothing but room for patrons to stay in. The basement, to which he had taken the alcohol, was split in two. One half was storage of various types. The other was more rooms for patrons to stay.
Until he had delivered the alcohol it had seemed strange to him that the whole trailer had been meant for this one place. He had been contracted to deliver this specific route. They had even asked about his fighting abilities before they had hired him. It took two days to deliver the load and return. There were three deliveries a week and he had Sundays off. The figures said that it was a 10 hour trip each way with a three hour unload time. This came to a total of 23 hours of work every two days. 69 hours a week at $20 an hour was not a bad paycheck. Plus his employers would be happy he had figured out how to trim 3 hours off the route.
Of course it hadn't been an easy delivery. From the moment he had popped the seal on the trailer he had felt the pull of those bottles and cans. The alcohol which had been too long a part of his life was not ready to let go. He had just put the last case away from his third trip. The bottle had called him. The seductive glare of light off the Black Swan Vodka label called to him. He had even placed his hand on the bottle when he had been saved.
She had introduced herself as Jemma. She was a beautiful grey squirrel with green eyes and brown hair. With a figure that wouldn't quit and legs that went on for miles she was stunning. She couldn't have been any taller than a hand over 5 feet. His hand had been wrapped around the bottleneck as she had pooped into the storeroom to offer help. He had taken his hand off the bottle and thanked her but told her he couldn't take the offer. She smiled and said ok before she left. She seemed so sweet and innocent, but at the same time gave off an aura of sensuality that he couldn't quite place. Her timely appearance had helped him to fight off the impulse that had come over him. The rest of the delivery had gone off without an urge or hitch. He had gotten two bottles of water and gone back to his rig.
He sighed. Checking the time he saw he had six hours in which to take a nap before he headed back. Placing the key up on its shelf for when he woke up, he lay onto his back and stretched before placing his wrists in the cuffs. He closed his eyes and relaxed hoping for an uneventful sleep and dreams of a better tomorrow.