“You sure?”
“Stay, they think you are my boyfriend so the gig is going pretty smooth.”
“Doc i am a girl.”
“I know, but you have some chin hair and look a cracked out punky Brewster lost in a H.G. Wells novel so it’s a good cover?”
A paranoid amphetamine-psychosis driven street hustler stepped to the bar.
“Hey doc can you make me a rum and coke?”
“Bitch, i ain’t a bartender?”
“That’s what i thought. Hey you got an eight ball on you?”
“Dumbass I ain’t Irish-Mike, you ain’t sellin behind the bar.”
“Well gimme a rum and coke then.”
“What goes in it?”
“damn you aren’t a bartender.”
“Kuntry you have been selling coke with me for years and then you expect me to know drinks, i ain’t a renaissance man.Look kuntry i brought an ounce to Eddie Foss and he asked me to watch the bar,”
“When was that?”
“Yesterday,........ so what goes in a rum and coke?”