A Post Dinner Crisis

I sighed and used the last chip to mop up some of the tuna that had fallen out of my sandwich.

Satisfied, my stomach having forgiven me, I paid my tab and dragged myself to the pub’s door.

Three woman of varying degrees of ugly appeared before me, blocking my way.

“Pardon me.” I said.

The chubby one decorated in piercings and bright colors ignored my request. “You were right Linda, it is him.” She poked a thick finger into my chest. “My friend wants to remind you about a certain high school dance- the one where you jilted her.”

“I’m sorry?” I was at a loss for words.

“Yeah you are! You probably thought your sins were buried but you’re done getting away with it.It’s time to pay.” This came from a tall, thin girl with blocky glasses that reflected the dim light.

“Please excuse me.” I tried a third time to get through.

“No excuses, no bullshit. You’ve had this coming for a long time, Michael.” The blond with more gums than teeth threw a punch that spun me back into a table.

My name is not Michael.

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