Back Step Blues | Open
Dodger slumped down against the back wall of the bakery as if the day had personally offended him. He set his bag beside him with a tired thump. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a lighter, only to stop, squinting at the flame like he was trying to remember why he'd even bothered in the first place. "You ever have one of those days?" He asked, to nobody in particular, grateful to be heard by anybody who was willing to hear.
"Where the only thing that went right was not trappin' yourself in the walk-in freezer?" He snapped the slighter closed, leaning his head back against the wall. Then, after a quick beat, he cracked one eye open and looked over at the person who'd stopped.
"Tell you what," he said, leaning forward slightly. "If you've got spare time, and a tolerance for cheap beer, I know a place what don't ask too many questions. You look like you could use it too. What do you say?"