Some People Shouldn’t Sing
You’ll have to excuse my absence from posting a prompt last month. The subject “Old Wives’ Tales” just wasn’t giving me the feels, so I opted to skip it. This month, however, I immediately had an idea pop into my head for this prompt. Somehow I don’t think this will be the usual take on this subject.
Tony turned his pristine ‘69 Chevy Nova left into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner just like he’d done countless times in the past. It was just after 8:00 AM, his customary time for breakfast during the week. “His” parking spot was open as usual. The last time somebody parked there, the aftermath did not make for a pleasant sight. He walked up the five steps to the front door, the shop’s owner opening it for him before he reached the threshold.
“G’mornin’ Mr. Tony...always a pleasure to see you.”
“How ya doin’, Jack?” Tony smiled and chugged the mustachioed man on the shoulder as he turned to the right and towards his table. He spied an interloper in his usual seat against the back wall. Tony would bristle at such an occurrence any other day, but not this one. He suspected he’d be paid this visit sooner rather than later.
“Heya, Tony. Don’t mind if I sit at your table do ya?” the large black-haired man said with an evil grin and a glint in his eyes.
“Mornin’, Vin, what brings ya by...thought I wasn’t sposed to meet up with ya ‘til latah.” Tony acted surprised to see the boss sitting at his table as he eased himself across from the hulking man of nearly 300 lbs. Vin wasn’t buying it.
The waitress came over and asked, “Your usual Mr. Tony?”
“Nah, just a coffee this mornin’, doll...we’ve got some important business to take care of shortly,” announced Vin. He glanced over at Tony to get his reaction only to be met with a face even Amarillo Slim couldn’t read.
The two men sat in silence until the coffee arrived, in a stare-down for the ages. Tony normally took it with some sugar and a splash of cream, but today straight black was in the cards. He gazed at Vin while lifting the mug to his lips and taking a short sip, not blinking once.
“So...what’s gonna happen now?” Tony asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin he grabbed from the dispenser by the window.
“Why do ya ask questions to which you already know the answers, kid. Honestly, I’m surprised ya didn’t turn tail and run when you saw my car out in the lot when ya pulled in.” Vin motioned to his left with his eyes and a slight head turn.
“Would it have mattered? You still woulda tracked me down in the end anyway,” Tony retorted.
“Hurry up and finish that coffee so we can get down to business.”
Tony did as instructed and the two associates marched out the front door to Vin’s awaiting Cadillac, his driver opening the rear door for them both.
“Kinda funny you’re wearin’ that shirt today, Tony...yellow’s the perfect color for a canary.”
Like most of my fiction pieces, this was went over well. One person mentioned that I should have given Tony a nickname like “Fat Tony”. I’d actually thought about giving him a nickname (not this specific one), but opted not to in the end. Another person thought I ought to make a short story out of some of the prompts I’ve written (I’ve actually thought along those lines, but to include edited versions as part of the next novel I’m thinking up). The group, as a whole, had some great stories for this prompt.
