s t r e e t l i g h t s.open

[monk]

He stood against the bar and tapped a flimsy package of cigarrettes off the bar and hummed the national anthem under his breath. His ankles were crossed and his top foot jingled in beat of the rickety phonograph in the corner. It was playing a popular, but old song. The 'Laughing Song' by a George Washington Johnson. Monk laughed sourly at an off color joke from the man beside him and earned a few glares.

Monk turned away from the bar, bringing his small glass with him. He drained the whiskey in one large swallow and set the glass down along with some change for another. He surveyed the room around him. He perked up at the sound of cards being shuffled. Forgetting his change and the whiskey, he moved his way over the card table. Swinging a chair from a nearby table, Monk sat and slapped a fistful of cash onto the table. These were mostly dock workers and Monk had just laid down more cash then they made in a year.

"Deal me in." He said with a dull grin at the shuffler. The guy looked at his pals and then shrugged and dealt Monk in. Monk scratched his nose with his thumb and then leaned back in his chair and signaled for the barkeep to bring his whiskey over. "Leave the bottle." He told the man and then began to play.

Twenty minutes later, Monk was down to a few dollars. He stood, pocketed the meager cash and grabbed the bottle and swaggered his way back to the bar where he plopped down in a tired manner.

[dove]

Dove slipped quietly into O'Brady's, opening the door just enough so that she could get into the place. She knew her parents, particularly Papa, would flip if they found out she'd come into a place like O'Brady's Pub at this time of night. She wouldn't have normally been there, but there were a few things she wanted to get straightened out. She needed to find that dock worker, Jovanni that she'd had a date with, courtesy of Singer. Since this was the place where most of the dock workers hung out after hours, she figured it would be a good place to start.

She'd probably overreacted the night before. No, she knew she'd overreacted the night before. The date had started out perfectly normal and nice. Jovanni had arrived at the tenement Singer had told her about, thinking it was hers. She'd invited him in, offered him a seat on the couch, and had even brought him a drink. It had been seltzer, but what can you do. She'd spent hours ahead of time making the apartment look nice, primping, and making a dinner of meat and pasta. Jovanni was Italian after all. But then she'd just had to go and look for things to go wrong. He didn't sit straight in his seat. He slurped his noodles. He talked with his mouth full. He kept staring at her lips as opposed to her eyes. Most of these were silly and inconsequential, but they'd bothered the heck out of her for some reason. She'd ended the evening as quickly as possible, which he'd seemed surprised about, and practically ran home afterwards.

Now that she was thinking about it, however, Dove wanted to apologize. This is why she never found love...she never gave it the proper chance. She hoped to find Jovanni and right her wrongs. Maybe he would even give her a second chance. He was handsome after all, with a steady job. He was nice, too. And he called her "Lovely Lydia." Yes, she would hopefully get another shot. Unfortunately, however, Jovanni was nowhere to be seen in O'Brady's.

What if he was on a date with another girl? What if he'd told all the men at the docks that she was stuck up and rude and now none of them would be interested? What if...oh, but there were too many 'What if's'. Dove stood in the pub, hovering somewhere between the bar and the door, feeling extremely out of place and a tiny bit nervous.