Dean was an avid womanizer. He'd been at the 'broken saloon' more times than he could count. wait a minute, who's counting. sober Dean or intoxicated Dean? Did it really matter? What did matter was 6 feet tall with blond hair and legs all the way up to her ass. And she was leaning on an old jukebox with a cold beer in her left hand. Dean had seen her walk in the bar and watched her like a cat as she ordered a beer. She was confident, arrogant, gorgeous. Or was it the beer talking, something like 6 beers down the pipe. The champagne of beers, at least that's what the t.v. commercials said. They were spot on. nothing tasted as good as Miller. Funny though, after the third beer.....the tongue grew numb. So in reality, he could have been drinking horse piss and it would have all tasted the same.
"Do you like the blues?" he said.
" I love Stevie Ray Vaughn, I have all of his CD's." she replied.
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