"Hey, sweetheart," he called out, his voice gravelly. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
Charlotte's eyes narrowed at the bearded biker. She knew his type-aggressive, entitled, and always looking for trouble. Ignoring him, she slid into the next booth and focused on the menu instead.
"Hey, honey, I'm talking to you," the biker slammed his hand down on the counter, causing the silverware to jump. The room felt silent, all eyes now on her.
"But I'm not talking to you," Charlotte replied, looking the biker straight in the eye. Any sign of fear could make the situation worse, she thought.
"Ooh, tough guy, huh?" the biker said with a grin. His friends at the counter chuckled, egging him on.
"Someone who just wants to eat alone," Charlotte replied.
The biker's grin widened, his teeth yellowed from years of tobacco and neglect. He pushed himself off the stool, his heavy boots scraping the floor as he approached her booth. The other patrons pretended to mind their own business, glad to be out of the centre of this gang, though Charlotte could feel their tension.
"What's the matter, honey? Don't you like the company of real men?" He leaned over the back of the booth, his breath reeking of beer and cigarettes.
Charlotte considered how to respond. This kind of idiot wanted to escalate the situation, surely stronger, ruder than a woman and used to it. Charlotte became angry. She got rid of this arsehole client to be dragged into this fight, which was really frustrating. Hot-tempered as she was, she decided to make it short, since the fight seemed to be inevitable as well.
"Do you consider yourself a man? I see an old wreck who cannot even brush his teeth!".
Her words were like a slap in the face. The biker's grin disappeared, replaced by a snarl. He reached out to grab her arm, but Charlotte was quicker. She slapped his arm away and stood up.
"Don't you dare touch me, a-hole!"
Her voice was cold and sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence of the diner. The biker took a step back, surprised by her sudden aggression. His hand hovered in the air where he had intended to grab her. She could see the doubt in his eyes, the moment of indecision. It was now or never.
"If you touch me, I'll kick your balls to Alaska!"
The diner went dead silent. The biker's friends at the counter froze, their smiles gone. The air was thick with testosterone and the smell of impending trouble.
"You got some mouth on ya," the bearded man sneered, taking a step closer.
" I simply want to be left alone here. OK?"
The bearded biker's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with surprising strength. He pulled her closer, his grip tightening. She felt a twinge of pain, but she wasn't going to show it. Instead, she reacted immediately, decade-long training triggered here reflexes Her left knee hit quick and hard the groins of the biker.
The man's eyes bulged with shock and pain, and he doubled over with a strangled cry. His grip loosened, and she wrenched free, taking a step back. She knew better than to let down her guard. She looked around the diner, expecting his friends to jump in, but to her surprise, they remained seated, watching with a mix of amusement and respect.
"Back off," she warned, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. The bearded biker straightened up, his face contorted with anger and pain. He took a step towards her, but she was ready, she feigned a punch with her left and hit with a short but still powerful punch of her right fist precisely the nose of the biker.
Blood spurted out immediately, and he staggered backward, holding his face. The diner's atmosphere was electric now, but none of the other bikers made a move. They watched, seemingly amused by the show.
"Looks like you're not as helpless as you look, lady," another biker said. He was younger than that one who she had just broken the nose. He had a grin on his face that seemed to say 'I like your style'.
Charlotte was surprised and a bit relaxed: "Almost 20 years of Kyokushin", she explained.
The younger biker nodded, his eyes lighting up with interest. "Impressive," he said. "The name's Jake. I am the boss here. That was a fine move."
Charlotte was not interested in small talk with the 1%er, but took the opportunity to de-escalate the situation: "I'm Charlotte," she answered the not asked question.
The bearded biker, still holding his hand over his bleeding nose, glared at her, but Jake put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Looks like you picked the wrong fight, Billy," Jake said with a chuckle. "You know what Kyokushin is, Billy?"
Billy mumbled something unintelligible through his hands that sounds like "Nah!"
"Kyokushin is a form of full contact karate, Billy," Jake continued. "Very rough. You should learn some respect."
Charlotte grinned: "I think he learned what Kyokushin is!"
Jake chuckled and nodded. "I guess that, too. What brings you to the Roadkill Diner, Charlotte? You don't look like you're from around here."