The encounter with Mickey had made Ben’s adrenaline perk up. As he started down the road, he went over in his mind what the old man had said, and tried to remember where he’d seen Mickey before. The man was over six feet tall. And with the large cowboy hat, he was the size of a basketball player. Not the sort of stature one forgot easily. Soon, the scenery made Ben forget about the strange man as he drove further into Montana, looking at the familiar sites. He’d made the trip so many times before and loved every inch of the road.
After what seemed like a few hours, he hit more traffic and knew he was nearing Missoula. The sun was up and as he drove, he watched the Clark Fork River follow the contour of the road. Mickey was finally far from his mind, gone forever, he hoped.
Rock Creek was nearing and he decided to stop there for some breakfast. He’d always intended to stop and fish the creek, but that would have to wait for another visit, he was getting anxious to reach his destination. A few more miles passed and he saw the turn off where he pulled into the parking lot of a bar and restaurant, its sign read ROCKY MOUNTAIN OYSTER FESTIVAL – AUGUST 1-4. He grinned at the sign, and walked in to use the facilities. The place was empty except for the help. “I’ll be back shortly and have some breakfast.” He nodded at the lady behind the bar and entered the men’s room to wash up.
He soon returned to the restaurant and sat at the bar. “So what can I get cha?” She was pretty, with sharply defined features. Her hair was dark and had a slight wave to it, her frame was small, but she had great length and incredible breasts. Ben didn’t see a ring. She was young but that didn’t stop him from admiring her striking looks.
“Good morning,” he looked at her nametag, “Gloria, my name’s Ben.” He smiled at her.
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