Bryn brushed some of her long red hair over her shoulder, kicking the wheel of her car and cursing.  It was dark, and a thunderstorm seemed to have stalled overhead, and her car just had to decide to break down right there.  Her hair and clothes were soaked through, and the sweater she wore over the rest of her clothes was so soggy it weighed an extra ten pounds.<br/><br/>Smacking the side of the car, she slammed the door after retrieving her purse.  There was no signal out here either, her phone was completely useless.  Fuming, Bryn stormed down the road.  She hadn't seen a single car come down it in an hour, or she wouldn't have been walking back to the bar she thought she had passed a few miles back.<br/><br/>It took Bryn over an hour to find the bar, and by the time she did it had begun to truly pour, the rain coming down in such torrents that she could hardly see a foot in front of her.  Throwing the bar door open, she stormed inside, cursing loudly.  She had barely noticed the lack of cars in the parking lot, but a couple of bikes had caught her attention on her way in.  She was in such a sour mood she felt like kicking one of them, sending it sprawling into the other.  She only barely kept herself from doing it.<br/><br/>As the bar door closed behind her, Bryn's grey eyes searched the dark main room.  It was full of smoke, but very few people.  Apparently the low population and the rain worked against the establishment.  She stormed up tot the filthy bar and looked at the bartender.<br/><br/>"Do you happen to have a phone in this shit hole?  My car is abandoned a few miles down the road, and I need a tow, if this butt fuck town even registers on a map.<br/><br/>The bartender scowled at her and slammed a phone down on the bar.  Upon picking up the receiver, Bryn cursed, slamming it back down and barely containing herself not to throw the phone at teh man.<br/><br/>"There's no damned dial tone!  Was that some kind of joke."  The bartender shrugged coldly, hardly paying attention to her.  Her attitude wasn't making her any points with him.  Suddenly she hit the bar, "Fine, give me a god damned drink.  Vodka, strait,and don't bother with the shot glass.  Give me something worth drinking."<br/><br/>Bryn leaned against teh bar, turning some to look a the rest of the room.  Beneath er sweater were low cut jeans, and she wore a pair of heeled boots.  The sweater was, presumably, a shade of blue before it had gotten soaked, now it appeared to be black, and there was no visible sign of what was being worn beneath it.l