Perhaps it is because of the high-risk nature of my chosen profession, but I personally have no illusions of my own immortality. The way I see it, there are enough unpredictable things in life that can kill you that the only rational approach to life is to take what little pleasures youse can as they presents themselves, so that when your number comes up, you can at least die knowin’ you’ve had a full and happy life. I think that life should be more than an exercise in self-denial, and even if I was guaranteed that I could live forever by abstainin’, I’d probably continue my occasional indulgences. I mean, who wants to live forever … particularly if that life has been designed to be borin’ and devoid of pleasure?
I am reflectin’ on this when a broad elbows her way in next to me at the bar. At first I think she is just really desperate for a drink, which as I said is understandable considerin’ the slow service, and step aside, usin’ my not inconsiderable bulk to make room for her.
“Got my target picked out for me?”
It takes a second for me to realize that I am the one this question is bein’ addressed to, as she sez it casual without lookin’ at me direct.
“Tananda?” I sez, lookin’ at her hard.
She is wearin’ a different disguise tonight … a shoulder length cloud of dark curls and a dress made of some clingy fabric that … well, shows off everything she’s got underneath it.
“Don’t look at me!” she hisses, quietly grindin’ a heel onto my toe to emphasize her point while glancin’ at the ceilin’. “We aren’t supposed to know each other … remember?”