“Another day, another dollar.” I said with a sigh as I reached over and turned off the alarm clock.  “I’m never drinking again.” 

The pain lessened now that the loud noise bashing against my hung-over head ceased.   

All the late nights trying to make the recent divorce go away were starting to catch up to me.  The booze helped or at least that’s how I rationalized it.  Sometimes I wondered about that as my mornings lately had been filled with aspirin, cold showers, and regrets.

After wallowing in my self pity for long enough I got up drained a the few aspirin left in the bottle of aspirin on my nightstand without the aid of water.  I then dragged myself carefully out of the bed and jumped in the shower.   

After the shower, and the shock of cold water woke me up from my daze, I went to the mirror to assess whether or not shaving would be necessary.  I hadn’t in almost a week and found that it was getting almost to the point of a beard. 

“Ah hell women dig stubble” I said to myself procrastinating again.   

I brushed my teeth quickly then spent a minute trying to find the cleanest clothes I could find.  I still hadn’t got the hang of doing my own laundry again and the picking were getting slim.   I threw on a decent pair of pants and after a sniff test a shirt that smelled clean.  

Then I went out to the street.  London’s population was going about their business completely oblivious to the foreigner in their midst.  Honestly though I didn’t stand out until I started talking.  My accent held the tell tale signs of my Appalachian origins. 

The sticky feeling of humidity immediately made me uncomfortable.  The sidewalk was wet from the heavy rain the night before and it combined with the summer sun was making my life miserable.  I had only been in London for a week and was still getting used to the weather.  

London had rain and lots of it, I had already decided even I could be a weatherman here.  It was a beautiful city though, with loads of History and best of all, no Rebecca.  Rebecca was my ex and I had flown halfway across the world to get away from her. 

I was still getting used to all the activity in London as well.  I grew up in the Appalachian mountains where the largest city I lived didn’t even come close to London’s size.  I was even new to using a taxi.  I still resorted to waving my arms like a mad man trying to hail one.

“Taxi”  I said waving my arms causing people walking down the sidewalk to stare.

The taxi was one of those “quaint” black ones I had only seen in the movies.  The driver was a middle aged man of probably German descent.  He wore a shirt at least a size too small revealing a belly and he had long since lost the will to comb what little hair remained on his head.

He kept his Cab spotless both inside and out though.  It smelled of cleaning solution and faint cigarette smoke, which I believe was coming from him and not the cab.   I told him to take me to the Bloody Knuckle Garage.

“Right away, Sir” the cabby said in a British accent.  I love their accents.

I was on my way to my new job.  My college drinking buddy, Charles, whose family owned a garage here, offered me one.  He had somehow convinced me to hop on a plane and fly thousands of miles for a mechanic gig.  A couple of years ago the idea would have seemed mad.   Honestly it didn’t take convincing, I needed a change of scenery.  

It was only my third day at the Broken Knuckle as I had spent the first few days playing tourist.  Charles had spent the whole weekend taking me to what he referred to as the real London.  A few clubs here and a few pubs there had left a very foggy picture of what the real London was. 

It was a beautiful city full of history and amazing stories, which I have always been a sucker for.  London went back to even pre-roman times and was one of the longest inhabited sites in the world.  It had seen numerous conquerors come and go and it still was here.

My reminiscing was short lived as I arrived at my destination only a few minutes after sitting down.  Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad as it could take a lot longer on some days.  I realized I didn’t have cash to pay the cabby as I started to get out my wallet.  I hadn’t been here long enough to get used to Euros, all I had left was US currency. 

Luckily plastic travels.  

My budget wasn’t going to last long at this rate and I knew I was going to need to find a cheaper way of commuting.  Charles suggested a liquor-cycle, in other words a scooter, but my pride would never let me on one.  I might just start walking as it was only around 2 miles between my apartment and the Knuckle but that would mean waking up earlier which might prove impossible.

As I walked to the garage I spotted a new Ferrari 458 pulling in.  It’s red paint and polished wheels were glistening in the sun like freshly cut diamonds.  The driver was getting out as I passed by and I got a whiff of the smell of fine leather that blew the doors off of “new car smell”.  The seats alone were worth more than I made in 3 or 4 months.  

“One day I’ll be able to afford the shit I work on” I said under my breath as I got out of earshot.  

Apparently the guy who owned it went way back with Charles.  I had only met him once but he came across as a real douche.  You know the type, too much time in the tanning bed and the gym and not enough using his brain.  

He won the genetic lottery though as his parents were some of the wealthiest people in London.  Daddy bought him the Ferrari for a graduation present.  A graduation only 7 years in the making for a bachelor's degree.  

The Bloody Knuckle wasn’t much to look at but it did give me a decent paying job.  Every time I see it though I can’t help but chuckle.  This is not how at all how I pictured my life turning out.  I think back to those stupid “what will you be in 10 years” papers they used to make us write in high school.  

I didn’t write that I wanted to be a mechanic in jolly ol’ England.

When I was in the States I did a little bit of everything.  Having the unfortunate disposition of getting bored easily, I’ve had a half a dozen jobs in the last 10 years.  I even opened my own garage which in turn pretty much ended my marriage.  

“Hey Arthur, the Caddy in the far bay needs the water pumped replaced” Charles said as I walked in.

“Sure thing boss man” I said.  

I met Charles in my college days.  We had both been walk ons for the football team after I convinced him to after learning that he played rugby.   It needs a similar athlete as a linebacker.   He was pretty good at it too judging by the videos I saw of him.  He never did make the active roster but he had a ton of heart as coaches used to say.  

He ended up sharing a dorm room with me our freshman year.   Mostly our college education involved fast cars and loose women and Charles was my wingman through it all.  Well at least until the string of loose women led me to marriage.    

It’s amazing how the things women fall in love with are the reasons they hate you in a marriage.  She loved the bad boy until she was married to him.  But I digress.

Charles and I fell apart after the wedding and I hadn’t seen him since he moved back to London.  He was born and raised here but he wanted to study abroad. 

I always thought it was silly because everyone knew (including Charles) that he would just take over the family garage once they retired.  His parents had been thrilled.  No one in the family ever went to college before.  Sometimes parents outsmart themselves.  

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All it accomplished was he met me and my nefarious ways wore off on him.  That’s why there is always a joint or two on him now that we enjoyed on break.  

“And the Rollback is running bloody fantastic.  You’ve got the magic touch.” Charles said.

“That’s what the ladies keep telling me,” I said with a grin.

Honestly the Ladies around here weren’t letting me touch them much at all.  It was beginning to piss me off.  I just rationalized that it was the accent.  I can sound like a redneck, it’s the Appalachian American in me.

Changing the water pump took the better part of the day.  After lunch I started working on Charles 67’ Porsche that I had been rebuilding the motor on.  At 6 we got off and I took a quick shower.  

Before leaving I started looking for Charles.

“Hey Charles, are we going to down some draft tonight or what?” I said while slapping his back when.

“Does the pope shit in the woods?” Charles replied with a grin.  

We headed down to our watering hole, the Salty Dog.   Some of the Local University girls frequent it and it was one of the few pubs in England that had decent whiskey.  

“For Queen and Country” I said to Charles as I walked in.

The Salty Dog was your average English Pub.  Tacky stained glass windows, a replica of a hunting rifle on the wall, and the musky smell of cheap cigars and cheaper booze.  There was one notable exception tonight to the usual sights and smells.  

She caused my eyes along with it seemed every other man’s in the room to lock in one place.  Her auburn hair flowed over her shoulders.  She was shorter only around 5 feet tall with a shapely figure.  Her clothes suggested she was a working woman as she was wearing a pantsuit.  

I noticed that she was alone and had multiple drink glasses in front of her.  She was at the bar but I doubt she was there for company.

“Dibs on the redhead” Charles said.

I knew a lost cause when I saw one.  Any woman that good looking would have company in a room full of men if she wanted it.  Charles on the other hand….

“Don’t forget to roll up that dangling tongue of yours otherwise it might get tangled in your feet.” I said chuckling. 

I walked over to the Bar and ordered a shot of whiskey.  When it arrived Charles sat down beside me.   He looked like someone ran over his puppy.

“Bloody hell.  I have met cold women but damn she would make your pecker break off if it got too close.” He said.

“She does look like she has “Fuck off” tattooed on her forehead” I said. 

She started writing on her napkin and I realized she must be working on something. Maybe she works at the University. She looked to be around my age and I have been out of College for close to a decade so most likely she was not a student. 

Whatever she was working on was consuming her whole attention span.  Numerous other men walked up to her only to be brushed off as quickly as Charles.  She barely looked up at them while she did it.   

 For about half a second I thought about pulling some Hero routine walking over and seeing if I could help her with whatever she was working on.  

“Hah” I said laughing at my own stupidity.

“What?” Charles said.

“Nothing just laughing at your grace with women.”  This caused him to throw a straw at me which I playfully knocked back.

After a few brews Charles decided to play some pool, so I ordered us a few more beers while he racked the balls.  As I took the mugs of beer over I could have sworn I saw the redhead looking my way but I dismissed it as unlikely.  

We played a few games and they were over pretty quickly.  I used to hustle pool and Charles had never been any good.   After getting beat so bad it destroyed what little interest he had in playing so he decided to call it a night.

“What?  It’s early.  Do you go to bed with your grandma or something?   It’s not even 10.”  I said.

“Your pissin me off winning every game.  You have my blood pressure boiling.  I’d hate to take a swing at you and you go all Bruce Lee on me.” He said knowing that I studied various martial arts in my younger days. “You should head home too.  You’re the best damn mechanic I’ve ever met but that doesn’t mean you can show up with a hangover every day.”

“Yeah yeah. Let me get one more and I’ll head out.”  I said knowing he was right.  You gotta grow up someday.

After he left, I walked to the bar and ordered another Beer.  As I did I swore I saw the redhead looking at me again before she quickly looked away.  At this point I had enough liquid courage in me to go talk to her.  So I asked the Bartender what she was drinking and got one and took it to her.

“You look like you could use another drink.”  I said trying to lay on my most charming southern accent and smile.

“Go away.  I have no interest in you or your genitals.” She said barely even looking up.

“Ouch you know you could hurt someone with that wit.”  I said as I sat down confidently next to her. 

“Did I say you could sit next to me?” She said.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t either. I’m kind of persistent.”  I said grinning

“I noticed.  You must be American.” She said returning to the napkin.

“Yeah we don’t give up easily.  What are you working on there anyway?  Anything I could help with?” Dammit so much for not looking like an ass. 

“None of your damn business.”

“Oh secrets?   Now you really do have me interested” I said while rolling my eyebrows mischievously.

“It’s not that.  It’s just.  Oh alright, if it will get you to leave me alone.  Do you know what antimatter is?”  She asked confidently in the fact that I wouldn’t.  

“You mean the stuff that Star Trek ships run off of?  Isn’t it the stuff that if you combine it and matter it will release tons of energy? E=MC^2 and all that.”   I knew I would look like an ass.

She laughed at that which I didn’t know whether to be offended by or just glad that I made her laugh.  

“Crude way of describing it but yes actually.  They have a particle collider in Geneva that can create some of it by smashing atoms together at near the speed of light.  It can only produce small amounts though, individual atoms really, but if we could produce enough of it there is theoretically no limits to what you could do with it.  It could be the solution for unlimited energy or even power those Star Trek ships you were talking about.”  Again she laughed  “I have been working on a new way of producing it at the university.”  

“Amazing and to think Internal Combustion used to be state of the Art.  It seemed to be a pipe dream when I heard about it though.   Doesn’t it take huge amounts of energy to make it.  It reminds me of the hydrogen car problem.” 

“Well I’m working on a way to create useful quantities of it without loads of energy or a collider but it’s how do I put this without hurting your hubris?  It's way over your head.  But thanks.”

“My hubris is well intact, madam.  I care not that you are smarter than I” I said in a British accent that she couldn’t help but laugh at.  

My god what a beautiful smile. 

“Honestly, it's surprising you could even follow that conversation.  Most couldn’t.” She said.

“ I have been interested in theoretical physics for a while.  Not to the point I studied it or anything but I do think it’s fascinating.  Especially the multiverse theory.”  I said as I kept digging the ignorance hole deeper and hoping I didn’t fall into it.

“You know about the MV theory?” She said, shocked.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, mam.  I find the theory interesting.  Every mistake you made in your life you didn’t in another universe because you made the opposite choice, what person wouldn’t be interested in it.  It makes Human Action so much more exciting if you think it affects the future.  Destiny is a drag.” 

That cut a little close to home as I spoke it.

“Yes we all have made choices we regret I’m sure” She said looking sad.

“It also makes time travel theoretically possible.  Causality wouldn’t be violated if it just spawned a new universe.  The old universe would continue as normal and a new one would emerge.  I always thought of it kind of like a forking tree.”

“Oh come now, time travel is impossible Einstein proved that.” She said as her nose literally went towards the sky.

“Mam, the scientific world was absolutely convinced just a little over a century ago that powered flight was impossible.  Same thing with a controlled nuclear reaction.  The biggest granddaddy of all miscalculations of accepted science was there is no way we can go to space or the Moon.  Hell the very thing you’re working on was merely theorized about a couple of decades ago.  Why can’t time travel be possible eventually?”

“Why can’t pigs fly?  They just can’t.”

I could come back with something about aerodynamics and weight not to mention the obvious lack of wings but that seemed pointless.  

After a few moments of silence it started getting awkward and she sure didn’t try to bail me out.   So considering I definitely wasn’t getting the “come back to my place” vibe from her, I downed the rest of my beer and decided to hit the dusty trail.

“Nice to meet you...  Damn I forgot to get your name.”

“Rebecca” She said.     

I’ll be, kiss my ass another one.  “Nice to meet you Rebecca, the names Arthur Collins.  I guess I’ve worn out my welcome hope to see you around.”

Well that was lame, I thought as I started walking to the door before I did anything more foolish.

“Say, if you're not busy tomorrow I’ll be conducting an experiment in the afternoon at the University.  If you want to, stop by.”

“Sounds like a nip right off the still, I mean sounds like fun.  I’ll have to check the schedule with the boss but if I can I’ll be there.”

She laughed again.  “What do you do anyway?”

“Me mam? I’m a fixer.”