The Bar

I dressed as I always did while on station, dark and dangerous. If I didn't have time I usually just threw on some light street clothes, Today, i had time. I cleaned and loaded my weapons. I had left my rifle and the C4 at the ship, it wasn't that kind of visit, but I brought my revolver, and with my black trenchcoat on the revolver was invisible. After talking with the agent I arranged for Mjolnir class Torpedoes to be loaded and stored aboard my Hound class stealth bomber and went to find a bar to spend the evening. It was a small place but it advertised the best whisky this side of the docks and damn I was thirsty. I sauntered in and ordered some shots. As I downed the remainder of the whisky the man behind me had begun a noisy recounting of some fight. Damn that guy was getting annoying. "Hey," I said to the burly Civere "Could you do me a favor and shut the fuck up?" I had begun fiddling with my lighter, an old habit when i begun to get the urge to set something ablaze. It had been a gift from my instructor at the University and I never went anywhere without it...I couldn't. The man behind me grabbed my shoulder roughly, "why don't you go someplace else?" he said. This guy was pissing me off, in one swift motion I shoved my elbow deep into the man's gut and twisting had him pinned against the bar his face towards the surprised barman. "You piss me off." I said to the man, now struggling against my grip. "People who piss me off have a tendency to die." I slipped my lighter into my pocket and pulled out my revolver, a 50-caliber monster that I'd had since Before I became a pod pilot. I placed the gun to the man's temple and said "Do you want to die?" The man's response was quiet and laced with fear "n-n-no." he managed to stammer. "Then you will leave, and not bother me again" I sighed and returned the revolver to it's place in my jacket and released the man. He limped to the exit clutching his gut. Fear and anger in his eyes. The bar was quiet now, all eyes were on me. I reached for my lighter again, to feel it's smooth tin surface, the slight roughness of the Minmatar logo. I thought life would be easier as a pod pilot. Fuck, was I wrong. I made a small isk transfer to the bar and left. I checked my neocom and sorted the messages, Hmm, a job offer. from another pilot, maybe life was about to get better.