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The
booths
were
all
empty
,
stretching
away
from
the
lounge
door
to
the
left
and
right
,
the
line
on
his
left
cornering
to
flank
the
bar
’
s
horseshoe
curve
down
the
short
length
of
the
room
.
Padded
leather
seats
and
backs
.
Gleaming
dark
Formica
tables
,
an
ashtray
on
each
one
,
a
book
of
matches
in
each
ashtray
,
the
words
Colorado
Lounge
stamped
on
each
in
gold
leaf
above
the
batwing
-
door
logo
.
He
turned
back
,
swallowing
the
rest
of
the
dissolving
Excedrin
with
a
grimace
.
"
Lloyd
,
you
’
re
a
wonder
,
"
he
said
.
"
Set
up
already
.
Your
speed
is
only
exceeded
by
the
soulful
beauty
of
your
Neapolitan
eyes
.
Salud
.
"
Jack
contemplated
the
twenty
imaginary
drinks
,
the
martini
glasses
blushing
droplets
of
condensation
,
each
with
a
swizzle
poked
through
a
plump
green
olive
.
He
could
almost
smell
gin
on
the
air
.
"
The
wagon
,
"
he
said
.
"
Have
you
ever
been
acquainted
with
a
gentleman
who
has
hopped
up
on
the
wagon
?
"
Lloyd
allowed
as
how
he
had
met
such
men
from
time
to
time
.
"
Have
you
ever
renewed
acquaintances
with
such
a
man
after
he
hopped
back
off
?
"
Lloyd
could
not
,
in
all
honesty
,
recall
.
"
You
never
did
,
then
,
"
Jack
said
.
He
curled
his
hand
around
the
first
drink
,
carried
his
fist
to
his
mouth
,
which
was
open
,
and
turned
his
fist
up
.
He
swallowed
and
then
tossed
the
imaginary
glass
over
his
shoulder
.
The
people
were
back
again
,
fresh
from
their
costume
ball
,
studying
him
,
laughing
behind
their
hands
.
He
could
feel
them
.
If
the
backbar
had
featured
a
mirror
instead
of
those
damn
stupid
empty
shelves
,
he
could
have
seen
them
.
Let
them
stare
.
Fuck
them
.
Let
anybody
stare
who
wanted
to
stare
.
