Zander's Journey

Zander glanced at his watch.  The long hand had just ticked pass the 12 on his shiny Rolex watch.

"3:00."

It was time.  He aimlessly diverted his gaze across the restaurant and observed the patrons.  He was seated at the bar, on the narrow end perpendicular to the entrance in a dark corner of the establishment.  He coolly tipped his cap.  There was a wide variety of people on this busy Friday night.  Businessmen coming straight from their place of employment looking to blow off some steam with their co-workers.  Housewives drinking screwdrivers and listlessly waving their arms.  The barkeeper hastily threw a towel over his shoulder and continued pouring drinks for his thirsty clientele.

Zander placed a bill in the tip jar and slid out of his stool.  He grinned at a woman seated to his left, who glanced coyly back at him.  She was wearing a mustard yellow blouse and a floral skirt.  After a moment, she looked back down at her drink and stirred it slowly.

Zander raised his eyebrows and continued out the door onto the busy Manhattan street.  Glancing back down at his watch one more time, he sighed heavily.

"I'm two minutes late already."

Walking down the street, he finally reached his 76 Cadillac, all blue, with suede interior.  Pulling out his keys, he inserted it into the trunk and lifted it.  Inside was a shiny M-16 machine gun.  He slid it into the inside of his coat and shut the hood.

To be continued...