The waitress stared at Jack with her mouth open for two full minutes before she responded. "I'm sorry, sir, but we don't serve beer here."
He muttered something under his breath and sighed. "Fine, I'll just have a water. The beer can wait until I get home."
He glowered at the young blond's back as she scampered off to retrieve his breakfast. "Can't have a single night without something going to hell."
Prompt from The Writer's Book of Matches, page 27.
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