Annie: "What can I get you, Hon?"
Deanna: "Could I see your wine list?"
Annie: "We have red and white."
Deanna: "Right. I'll just take a beer."

And cheap beer. Tonight, she would be someone who liked cheap beer.

Annie: "Sure thing."

The waitress took a step to walk away, but paused and turned back.

Annie: "Do you want me to get you the TV remote or something? We get regular channels too, not just ESPN."

Deanna sighed inwardly, wondering just how pathetic she looked that someone would think she needed to go to a bar to drown her sorrows in cheap beer and a rerun of Desperate Housewives.

Deanna: "No, thank you, just the beer."

Moments later a glass full of slightly cooler than room temperature beer was set in front of her. She took a sip, then quickly emptied the glass when she realized it would not be an acquired taste and thus there was no reason to draw the experience out. A table full of college boys cheered in appreciation and she rolled her eyes just as several other tables began booing as the local news broke into the baseball game.

Annie: "I told you, we just don't have ice cream. It's not that we're out; we just don't carry it. Our menu is pretty much beer and a small selection of deep fried items."

Deanna chuckled to herself as the waitress argued with a man several tables away. He looked strangely familiar, but she couldn't quite place him or pull his voice out of the crowd.

Annie: "I'm sorry, no, you can't go buy a pint of ice cream and bring it in here. That would be against health code."

Deanna watched, growing slightly concerned as the man grew louder. The frustration was evident in his gestures, but there was something more. He was feral, but detached from the conversation, as if he knew he would get the ice cream he wanted one way or another, but not soon enough to satisfy him. Deanna narrowed her eyes, trying to determine if he was a vampire, but there were too many other sounds and smells in the bar, too much smoke and too little light.

Just as suddenly as the altercation began, the man stood up and pushed his way out of the bar, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. As he passed by Deanna, she stiffened, smelling the blood on him. She also smelled life. He was no vampire, but the blood scent was so strong that she was surprised no one else in the bar noticed it. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It was hard for her to remember what being mortal was like, the sensations and the perceptions. Although the man smelled to her like every thread of his clothing was saturated with blood, he may have simply had a bloody nose earlier in the night and stuffed a soiled tissue in his pocket.

She stared down at the table, still feeling a sense of uneasiness that she couldn't put her finger on. The baseball game returned, the crowd cheered, and suddenly it clicked.

Deanna: "Hello? Yes, I think I just saw the man that was on the news. Yes, the one that they broke into the baseball game for. I know it was just a sketch, but I'm positive it was him. He just left the Hat Trick Bar and got into a beige Ford hatchback, license plate 724 ZEU, and he's turning left onto Grange Hall Road right now.

Deanna: "He was arguing with a waitress. He wanted ice cream but they don't have it here, that's why he left. He was adamant about finding ice cream… Yes, of course, I'll stay here until you send an officer. Thank you."