//------------------------------//
// Trivial Pursuits 
// Story: Uno Mas 
// by Some Leech 
//------------------------------//

“Well that’s unfortunate,” Haggis uttered.

Standing beside the colossal mare, Anon watched as smoke drifted out the windows of the Tavern. “Bit of an understatement, but yeah…”

Their afternoon had been going smoothly - that was until some jackass of a traveling magician had decided to do a few tricks to entertain patrons.  What was supposed to be a smile disappearing act had turned into a comedy of mishaps. A disappearing act spooked a kirin, which set off a small fire that then led to an ashtray being tipped over and set off a series of colorful smoke bombs that the performer had carried with her. While there’d been no real damage to the building or anyone therein, the tavern had been vacated and left to air out for the evening.

“Since we’ve got a few hours to kill, got any plans?” he inquired, looking over to her.

Peaking a brow over at him, she took a puff of her stogie. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“Wish I could say I did, but I don’t,” he sighed. “I guess I could go for a walk or -”

“I thought you’d go see that jenny you fancy,” she interjected, lifting and tapping the ash from her cigar.

He balked, completely thrown off by her declaration. “I’m sorry ~ what?”

“Whatshername, the kind of plump one who lives down by the creek,” Haggis asserted.

“Agnis? Agnis the donkey?” he scoffed.

Nodding and shooting him a wink, she smirked. “Aye, that’s the one. I seen how she looks at ya - figured you two’ve been cozying up.”

Genuinely at a loss for words, he swallowed hard. Agnis was a fine equine in her own right, but she was not in any way what he was looking for in a romantic capacity - furthermore, she had all the charm of an amorous bridge troll. While he’d done his best to ignore her advances, basically ignoring the moments when she’d playfully slap his ass or offer poorly veiled promises of sharing a bed with her, there wasn’t enough hard liquor in the world to convince him to give her anything other than polite service.

“No -” he grunted, “actually hell no.”

Taken aback, she pursed her lips. “So who are you dating?”

“I’m not dating anyone,” he firmly stated.

“Then what’ve ya been doing with yourself on your days off?” she countered.

“Hiking, reading, fishing - honestly whatever suits my fancy,” he replied. “You don’t need a special someone in your life to be happy - actually, since you mentioned it, why aren’t you seeing anyone?”

She turned to face him, giving him her full attention, and took another draw of her stogie. “Been there, done that, and I’m not looking to get back into the dating game. I’m too old, too fat, and too tired to deal with some stud in my life.”

“Oh please -” he groaned, “you’re not that old, you’re hardly fat, and you’re one of the better looking mares in town - besides, having a boyfriend could -”

“Don’t you go making this about me, lad,” she interrupted, kneecapping his attempt to turn the tables on her. “You’re young, capable enough, and I presume decent looking for your kind. Seeing as how you may not be getting back to that Earth place you mentioned any time soon, you may as well enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he hung his head. “If, and that’s a damn big if, I was trying to get into the dating scene, where would I even start?”

“Easy, you just find a mare who catches your fancy, give her a nice smile, and ask her out,” Haggis flippantly answered.

“Ask her out where?” he countered. “It’s not like there’s much to do here in town!”

Brushing away his concern, she waved a hoof at him. “It’s just an expression, you don’t have to go anywhere to ask a mare out. You make a nice meal, maybe dance with her a little, and treat her right - I tell you, you’ll have her swooning in no time flat. There was this one time when Scotch, bless the big, simple bugger, tried making me…”

He motioned her to continue as a silly little grin played across his face. “Go on…”

“Bah - I said you weren’t making this about me and I meant it,” she grumbled, ignoring or ignorant to the slight blush that had crept into her cheeks. “Point being is that you don’t need much to woo a mare.”

Holding up one hand and making a mental note about the name Scotch, he began counting off on his fingers. “I can’t cook worth a damn, I don’t know the first thing about dancing, and the pickings are kind of slim around here when it comes to females of any persuasion.”

She shook her stogie over at him and scowled. “Now you’re just making excuses. Anypony can learn how to cook, dancing ain’t as hard as it looks, and there are plenty of fine mares that wander through these parts.”

Turning and motioning to the sleepy little village behind him, he frowned. “And who’s going to teach me how to do any of that?”

“I could - heck, if I could teach a lout like Scotch how not to burn water, I could teach you…” she abruptly trailed off and looked away, averting her gaze.

Her second mention of what he could only assume was some past lover piqued his interest like few things ever had. She wasn’t one to talk about herself often, typically only after she’d had a few drinks to loosen up - even then, she never gave too many details. Sensing a rare opportunity, he stepped back and extended a hand to her.

“How about this -” he mused, “I’ll let you teach me how to do all this stuff, if you tell me about this Scotch character you mentioned.”

Warily eyeing his open hand for a moment, she squinted over at his face. “That’s a tall order, lad…”

He didn’t budge, though his smile broadened ever so slightly. “Think about it though. If this works out, you might just get me out of your hair - that and I could probably help out more in the kitchen.”

Barring the exceptional instances when she’d let slip particulars of her past, one of the only reasonably successful ways he could get information out of her was to barter. He’d exchanged hard labor to hear some of her stories before, and he’d more than likely end up doing the same thing in the future, but the payoff was worth it. If busting his ass by chopping firewood, reshingling the roof, or scrubbing the floors meant getting to hear about a lover she’d had, it’d be a small price to pay.

“On one - no, two conditions,” she muttered. “Firstly, if you try to sandbag me, the deal’s off - secondly, you don’t breathe a word of any of this to anypony.”

As she lifted a foreleg, he clasped and firmly shook her hoof. “You’ve got my word. What happens in the tavern stays in the tavern.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not the case,” she grouched, “but it better be when it comes to this.”

As he looked over and noticed the dwindling amount of smoke rolling out of the bar’s open windows and doorway, he freed his hand. “You think the place will be cleared out by tonight?”

“Probably, though it’s just as well that we keep the place closed until tomorrow,” she remarked, turning and lazily making her way back to the structure.

“Worried about complaints?” he asked, somewhat surprised that she’d voluntarily turn down a night’s business.

“No, ya idget,” she clucked, peeking over her shoulder at him. “I just told ya that my little tutoring session was going to be kept private.”

He nearly stumbled over his own feet as her words sank in. “Wait ~ we’re doing that now?”

“I don’t see why not,” she indifferently responded. “The place is empty and I don’t reckon we’ll have any complaints if we shutter the place for the night. Like my pappy always told me, ‘strike while the iron’s hot’.”

Though he was thankful for the potential chance to unearth a bit more of her history, he hadn’t anticipated doing so right away. Rushing up to her side, he rubbed his chin and thought. Mucking about in the kitchen wouldn’t be all that difficult, but finding adequate space for dancing may be a trial.

Reaching the front door, she surveyed the interior. “I’m going to give you an hour.”

“An hour? An hour for what?” he inquired, sidling past her and to a nearby window.

“An hour to impress me,” she noted. “When I come back downstairs, I expect the best you’ve got to offer.”

Using a set of blinds as billows to get some fresh air into the place, he stiffened. “So you want me to make you dinner, tidy up the place, and get ready for…?”

“Our date - well a mock date,” she clarified, trotting a way and quoting the air with one hoof. “Hope you don’t disappoint me, because I’d hate to have you dig a new latrine for the outhouse…”

His stomach practically backflipped at the thought of dealing with outhouse duty, giving him all the more reason not to blow his chance with her. “Give me an hour and a half.”

“Nah, I think an hour will do,” she snickered, disappearing into the back. “Hope you know what you signed yourself up for…”

He gulped realizing he may have made an egregious error. She’d outplayed him, it was as simple as that. Regardless of how things panned out, she was going to get a meal and some entertainment at his expense at best - at worst, he’d end up shoveling dirt and having to suffer through a literally shitty job on top of cooking for her and cleaning the tavern. Knowing it was too late to back down, he steeled his resolve and hurried off to the larder…