By Cody Nathanson | Assitant Editor
One foot off the bar stool, he begins to pace back and forth between the wooden tables sprawled out in front of him. Smearing the sweat from the palm of his hand onto his leather vest, he glances over at the crowd moving in and out of the building. Turning back to check the clock just above the bar, he takes a deep breath before approaching three men sitting at the bar next to him. His military boots thump against the floor, and he passes a stool, then another, before placing his elbow onto the counter next to them.
Their jaws go still as they turn to the man looming over them. A small crowd of people carrying trays and drinks pass through the front door as they continue to look up at the vested man before them.
After the front door opens and closes again, one of the shirted men looks up and asks, “We good?”
Lifting his arm off the table and giving his vest an eager pat, he lets out a quick smile toward the three men before giving an excited response, “Lets rock!”
Standing up together, the three men hop from their stools and follow the vested man into the room by the bar. As the door closes behind them, the clang of pans spills out towards the entrance.
A moment passes, then the vested fellow leaves the room carrying a giant tray filled with cupcakes and cookies. Moving across the room, he takes a few steps outside, with the three other men close behind him.
Tents and cars fill the dirt parking space in front of the bar. Men wearing leather vests pass out hamburgers. Others hand out water bottles and post signs reading, “Demons Charity Drive.”
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