As was usual for a Friday night Tyler was at his regular table at the Stampede. And as usual he was waiting for Zeb and Barney to arrive. He sipped his beer and listened to the music, tapping his fingers on the table top and smiling to himself. After about fifteen minutes his friends arrived. They sat down at the table and poured themselves each a glass of beer from the pitcher Ty had ordered.
“Well, we got through another fuckin’ week,” Barney lamented. “Still outta a job and runnin’ low on the savin’s account. And the fuckin’ government wants to cut me outta unemployment. But what the hell.” He raised his glass in salute.
The other two raised theirs as well.
“How’s it goin’ with you?” Ty asked Zeb.
“’Bout the same. Had enough customers that I paid the bills, but one a y’all’s go
