“You ain’t gonna see ‘em here, Mac.” The bartender stood there, relaxed. This must have happened more than once.
“They told us Ziggy’s is a titty bar!”
“Not anymore. It’s a sports bar now.”
“Well, shit.” Bigmouth looked at his friends, and they shrugged.
“We’re here anyway. Let’s have a beer, Al.”
“Okay, and then we’ll go looking for a titty bar.”
“Let me see your ID.”
“We’re over twenty-one!”
“Sure you are. I’m still gonna card you.”
They dug in their pockets for their driver’s licenses, and I lost interest in them.
I went to the booth and took the seat that let me keep an eye on everyone in the place, and most especially the door.
It opened, and I raised the Coke to hide my smile. The man who entered moved to the side and studied the occupants of Ziggy’s.