Secondly, because Iron’s cell number is listed on his Facebook page (silly man), I call him up and invite him out for a drink at Toby’s High Life.
He instantly recognizes my voice and doesn’t think I’m a creep. The first thing he says, “Isn’t that a papa bar?”
“It is. You’ll be safe. No worries. I’ll protect you.”
“Won’t the old men be all over me?”
“Aren’t you used to that happening?”
“Guess so. I can fend them off.”
“I’m sure you can. If not, I’ll improvise and help you.”
He agrees to meet me at seven in the evening. I offer to buy the drinks.