A tumbleweed drifts across the desert. Lightly it skips, to and fro, over the badlands of what will be Arizona. From red hills, through the sand and off the cacti, it dances it’s way into town. To it’s left, the town sheriff stands outside the jail puffing on one of his usual cigars. He barely makes notice of the tumbleweed as it intrudes upon a duel happening in the middle of the road. The tumbleweed bounces it’s way through the two cowboys frozen in stance, their right hands inches from their gun. It makes it’s way passed 4 horses parked at a watering hole, quietly drinking their hearts content before the crack of a pistol and a thud on the ground breaks their concentration.
The tumbleweed manages to pass all this, it’s stride unbroken before coming across the clean spurs upon the boot of a one Mr. Albert Farner. Confusing his foot before his step could land, the dancing dead bush caused him to trip and fall face first into the sand outside his intended destination; The building that said ”Saloon” on it.
Mr. Farner picked himself and laughed. Glancing around to see if anyone noticed. “Nusiance, those things!” he said to the two women fanning themselves outside the brothel next door. The girls rolled their eyes at him and continued what must’ve been a conversation more interesting than a bumbling stranger. Albert brushed off any remaining dirt on his clothes, made sure his shirt was tucked securely into his pants and put back on his ten gallon hat.
“Well then.” He said himself and went on with his journey. Up the three steps and throw the swinging doors, Albert came into focus with a sight he had completely expected and looked forward to for some time. A nearly empty bar, lined with various brown bottles. Two men were asleep at a table in the corner, apparently mid card-game and two others were standing at the bar talking with the bartender. Albert made his way in their direction making sure to keep his distance. He smiled to himself as he took in the sights and smells of his very first experience in a saloon.
“You want something?” The bar keep asked, while his other costumers looked on.
The question snapped Albert back. “What? Yes. Oh yes of course. I’m thirsty, what do you have?”
The bartender leered at Albert. “You ain’t from around these parts, is you?”
“I am actually. I was raised on farm just outside Borstown” Albert replied.
The bartender’s leer remained. He turned his head to spit before responding. “I thought every one from Borstown done came through here couple months back.”
The concious patrons of the saloon were at full attention now. All eyes were on Albert now, and he noticed. The smile, however, never left his face.
“Apparently not!” Albert said with his hands raises. “Please, I am terribly parched. May I purchase a beverage from you? I do have money to pay.”