I'm shacked up at this truck stop-motel thing outside Columbus, Ohio. I'm already drunk. Been drinking shots of Jim Beam and chasing 'em with ice water. Really sad shit, drinking out of the free plastic cup that comes with the room. Anyway, the walls were starting to close in on me, so I leave the room and wander over to the bar.
Place is dark and empty.
They're getting ready to close and there's a woman at the bar, long blond-y kind of hair, I can't see her face. I order a whiskey and slide in next to her. In the shadows I still can't see her face, who cares. By the very fact that I'm sitting next to her at 3 a.m., it is understood by both of us that I am picking her up. We don't even have to talk.