He was early to dinner and needed to kill some time. The friend he was meeting had a taste for hooch even stronger than his own. Sneaking in the usual martini was out of the question for now. Tonight was all about defense. He needed to make sure aspirin wasn't on the menu for breakfast.
The bartender who looked to be . . .
He had been home for a week. The early afternoon drinks and cigarettes while watching the sun slowly set had made a profound impact. He had not even unpacked his suitcase yet. The contents still held the sweet, floral, spicy, and a touch fishy scent of Marseille.
Watching the sun reflect off the shiny buildings on Lake . . .
Extra innings meant that he was on edge. She had been asleep since the stretch. He usually loved West Coast away games but September baseball carries a different weight when you are only a few games ahead. The announcers yammered on about great plays from the start of the season and how players had either blossomed or shriveled . . .
As the front door to his apartment clicked shut he opened his eyes. A good stretch ticked the exercise box on his mental list of things to do that day. Today's paper was on the counter by a short note apologizing for eating the last yogurt. It was signed with a small heart.
Slipping on a worn pair of jeans and a . . .
He wasn't one for putting a bartender to a test but he rarely came to bars in the "cool" part of town anymore. It was a pricey cab ride back to the neighborhood he had grown out of a few years ago. He would have made the daiquiri himself but he was out of limes.
He sat and listened to the room. Bar talk used . . .
It was a warmer day than it was supposed to be and he was either too late for lunch or too early for a cocktail. Nothing sounded all that good but as he was both hungry and thirsty the problem needed to be solved. A proper conundrum for a Friday afternoon.
He found a place that had a wooden sign set up advertising oysters, . . .
Shaking hands with everyone was becoming tiresome and he didn't know any of these people. The invite was a surprise when it came and he couldn't remember how he had actually met the happy groom. A class from college or an old client. It didn't matter he thought as he scanned the room. He somehow felt obligated to come . . .