Dan took a look around the diner. It was dark outside, the dusty road was desert for a long stretch. Summer was running out, but the air was still pleasantly warm. Only four customers were left. There was Ronnie, a huge black farmer in his early thirties who lived alone and dined at Dan’s almost every night. There was Frank, forty, a thin tall sinewy grease-monkey, with his twin brother Jeff, pretty regular customers also. And then there was Annie, the truck driver. Well, she was not a “regular”, but Dan did not think she will bail out. He actually hoped the opposite would happen, since she was a nice piece of ass.
Dan grinned and went to the door, locked it and put the “Closed” sign on, then proceeded to shut all the blinds. Frank and Jeff chuckled, Ronnie put on a shit eating grin. Annie looked a bit puzzled, but she caught whiff that something interesting was about to happen, so she finished the rest of her chilli con carne and gulped down the cold beer.
When Kelly entered the room all eyed fixed on her. She stopped on the kitchen doorway. She was trembling, mascara running down her cheeks, her blonde hair in a ponytail. She held a very large dog bowl in her hands, and she wore only a skimpy white apron, black stiletto heels and a red dog collar.
“Come on,” Dan said.