Chapter Ten––––––––
Carla swiped the bar with a wet cloth for the fiftieth time that night. It was Wednesday, a traditionally slow night. She was closing up early because the place was empty. Doodles went home. It was eleven, and she was alone. Betty didn’t play until the weekend.
She threw some change in the jukebox and picked a favorite—“Lay, Lady Lay” by Bob Dylan. She sang as she put away the new glassware along with the old, straightened bottles, and pulled out new ones to replace the ones that only had an inch or so left.
She made herself a Carla Special, sat at a table, and put her feet up. Trunk was having dinner at Bull’s house. She wondered if he’d gone to a local strip club after. There was one about fifteen miles away. She’d heard him talk about it in the past, especially wh
