I tell him again, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m still out.”
“Suit yourself,” Blond Beefster says, whisks Gerald away by his d**k (literally), and exits the dance floor and bar.
* * * *
Being alone is not a problem for me; hence my singlehood. Once Gerald and Blond Beefster fade away into the men on the dance floor I escape to the bar for another whiskey sour. At the bar with a drink in hand, Hal Luce, the owner of the place, slides up to my side, and pats me on my back, begins to rub it with both palms, and says, “Thanks for supporting The Elephant.”
“Any time. It’s a great place. Home away from home.”
“How’s the drink?”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Good. Mitch knows what he’s doing behind the bar. He’s one in a million. Doesn’t steal. Good to look at with his green eyes and chiseled j
