Liz, the barmaid and tavern owner, was on high alert, as always on a Friday night like this - the mix of local regulars and weekend visitors "escaping" from the city sometimes lead to trouble.
Sad, really - they all had in common a great appreciation for this rustic old tavern, and for this beautiful wooded mountain area, gloriously in full autumn color right now.
Home to her, she just wanted them all to have a good time and keep coming back. Most were just fine, and she, personally, loved the diversity and getting to know people different from herself.
Unfortunately some of her fellow locals weren't so open minded - easily bothered, they were, by anyone and anything different. Tonight she had to keep an eye on this one group of "flannels" - local regulars all wearing their Friday night best flannel shirts - they were overly concerned with the group of city folk squeezed together in the nearby booth.
Also dressed similarly, yet totally differently from the locals - workaholics all four of them, and very best of friends, on a well deserved weekend getaway from their almost 24 / 7 pace of work & healthy community activities in the city. They had put on their very best designer jeans and duds for this long anticipated adventure.
Liz had the place looking it's Halloween best tonight - - a roaring fire in the huge old stone fireplace and a wealth of freshly carved jack-o-lanterns smoked & flickered to set an awesome aroma & scene - and she was smoking herself in her all black tank top, super tight jeans & make-up - plus lil witch dangling earrings - she was positively wicked.
Oh no - this one real troublemaker of the flannels, thoroughly wicked in own way, just stepped towards the booth, intent on disrupting their "intellectual" discussion. She heard him voice his irritation loud enough for them to hear, but they had just ignored him. So now he was muttering something about how he hated "elites" as he moved towards them.......
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