“And your credibility.” The bartender scowled.
Wren shrugged. “I guess I need to leave, then.” Maybe if he retraced his steps from the “L” stop to the bar he’d find the wallet. Right. And maybe Rick Santorum will come out in favor of gay marriage, or no, maybe simply come out. You really think a wallet on the sidewalk is going to stay there, especially on a busy street like Belmont? Fat chance! And that’s only if you really did lose it or drop it on your way here. More likely is that someone on the crowded “L” train picked your pocket. Or maybe even someone here at Tricks. It’s crowded enough. Wren remembered suddenly the guy from whom he had stolen the stool, how he had leaned in close, trying, Wren thought, to interest him in a drink. Maybe he was actually getting close to grab Wren’s wallet. He looked around for the guy, but he was nowhere in sight. He’s probably out at Best Buy already, ringing up big screen TVs and computers on my only credit card.