The North Inn Bar Was A Sleepy Little Place - 1059 Words

The North Inn bar was a sleepy little place, the kind of shabby pub that locals liked to congregate in to trade gossip and visit with one another without having to fight scores of inebriated preppies for a table. Memorial Day meant that summer had officially arrived, and even if the town was obscure and unknown, the seasonal swell of tourists to the East End brought a good number of visitors who found themselves within the city limits, and several new establishments had begun to cater to this crowd. But not the North Inn. The well drinks were strong and cheap, and other than a decent view of the water, that was pretty much all it had going for it. How things had changed. It was still a local place but it was no longer quiet or hushed.†¦show more content†¦The Brits: The Sex Pistols. The Clash. The 70s rock-opera - stylists: Queen. Yes. Early Genesis (this was crucial - Peter Gabriel - led Genesis, not the earsore it became under Phil Collins). Metal: Led Zeppelin. Deep Purple. Metallica. Party Rock: AC/DC. Def Leppard. Motley Crà ¼e if she was feeling a tad ironic. Since she d arrived at the North Inn, the place was always blasting with the screech of guitars and the fist-pumping dance-floor anthems that drove the crowd to its feet. But next to the slashers she hunted, the music was almost irrelevant. However, a week after her arrival in town, the bar, like Cassie, was a bit subdued. While the music was still loud and strong, it had an underlying mournful echo. The Rolling Stones sang Waiting on a Friend: I m not waiting on a lady, I m just waiting on a friend . . . , the cocktails were limp and sweet, the gin fizz didn t fizz, the champagne was flat, the beer turned lukewarm after only a few minutes. It was just like the hunt, but worse. She was glad Vlad wasn t around to notice; she didn t want him being any more suspicious than he already was. What happened on the hunt that evening had been an impulsive act, but it was over now and everything would be all right. There was no need to panic. So what if all she could dream about that night? So what if it had invaded her consciousness, had become the subject of her every waking thought? When she closed her eyes, she could still see that beautiful face,