Extermination Service

It was 4pm.  The two men sat in silence gesturing only with a finger for another beer.  The place was empty, but it would soon be bustling with people looking to forget about the day. 

A rusting old fan too tired to cool the bar played its song in the doorway. 

Jim smoothed his shirt pocket looking for cigarettes, must have left them at the shop.  Without looking the stranger sitting next to Jim passed him a cigarette, a book of matches, and a business card.  With a grateful look and return nod Jim took the cigarette. Camel no filter, not Jim’s brand but he was not in the position to turn down the offer.  Jim paused just before he struck the match. 

She had just walked into the bar, without noticing the two men she walked to the jukebox in the corner and started to play her nightly rotation of songs. 

Jim struck the match; the fire nearly matched the fire in his eyes.  He inhaled deeply, held the smoke in his lungs and exhaled, blowing smoke over the bar.  Jim fingered the card, flipping it over in his hand.  He knew what it said, he knew why he was here, it was just a matter of finishing the deal.  The money had already been sent, dues for services yet rendered.   
         
When she finished playing her songs she wheeled around, noticed the two men and walked that way. She came up behind Jim, stuck her tongue in his ear and took a drink of his beer.  She laughed and walked off towards the bathroom shaking what God gave her.  She was drunk, and had the look in her eye that told Jim she was going home with someone else tonight, again. 

Jim took one of the stubby pencils from the lotto bucket on the bar.  He wrote “her” on the back of the card. 

As the man left him Jim smiled; he hadn’t smiled in years, removed his wedding ring and threw a twenty on the bar to pay for the beer.  Jim grabbed the card and looked at the red colored wording, “extermination service” what a catchy little name he thought to himself as he walked out of the bar.