Everglade by Greg Barth

Author:Greg Barth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

TWENTY-FIVE

I was on my third Maker’s Mark neat, making eyes at the young Latina at the opposite end of the bar, when the asshole approached me.

“Hey sugar,” he said. He took the stool next to me, which put him between me and her. So I had to look at him, at least for a second or two.

He had a scraggly, four-day growth of beard, longish blonde hair, and wore a ball cap. He was tall and lean. Red spots dotted his face. He was an ugly fucker.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His breath smelled like cinnamon chewing gum.

The bourbon had mixed with the wine and was doing all sorts of pleasant things to me. I realized pretty fast how much I enjoyed drinking. I made a resolution to never go without again. Life is too short.

My words slurred a bit as I spoke. “I have gonorrhea,” I said to the ugly man.

He considered this. Nodded his head. “I have rubbers.”

“And herpes,” I said.

“So do I. And I have witch hazel at home.”

“I have a yeast infection.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

He blurred a little in my drunk vision. I selected my words carefully. “I’m on the rag.”

“I can wait while you freshen up.”

I cleared my throat. Took a sip of whiskey. “Look. Asshole. I won’t let you buy me a drink. And I wouldn’t let you fuck me if I had a gun to my head. Go. The fuck. Away.”

“You don’t gotta be such a bitch about it.” He scooted his stool back, grabbed his beer, and left me alone.

“Well, apparently I did have to,” I said to nobody.

I’m pretty sure he called me a cunt as he walked away.

Nice.

Ah, there she is. The woman across the bar looked to be early twenties. She had pretty features—Hispanic, slim face, dark eyes, dark hair, pretty lips that were plump and full. I’d seen her get up once to go to the restroom. She had good breasts for her size and the shapeliest hips on any woman I could remember seeing. They curved perfectly for her build.

She smiled at me and flashed those pretty white teeth. My gay-dar ticked once, but I wasn’t getting enough vibes to know for sure.

I got another drink from the bartender. He was a young, college-jock type of guy. “Hitting these pretty hard,” he said.

“I’ll slow down after a couple more, young man,” I said. “What’s that lady across the room having?”

He looked over at her. “Uh, that’d be Cuervo.”

“Get her one on me.”

“You got it.”

He poured her drink and took it over to her. They spoke a few words, he gestured toward me. She looked over, smiled. I held my glass up. She raised hers too, and we drank together.

The more I drank, the more I realized this was who I was. This was who I would always be. To hell with consequences.

About the time I finished my drink, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I looked up. The woman at the other side of the wraparound bar stood up.

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