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when you walked into a bar called Taps & Shots you better believe that whats on the otherside of the door is going to be interesting

the bartender was named Dog

the barmaids name is Catcher

Myron owned the joint and usually sat in the corner facing the door on a really nice red leather stool with a back and armrests  if he wasnt sitting there and the bar was full  no one sat in it  not that they were told not to  but ya had to be an idiot to think it was for you

                                    the other stools were stout industrial adjustable tripods topped with warmcoloured woodseats  casting a glance about the bar they were easily the warmest things in the bar in its stripped interior  roughcut studs exposed to two wallsbehind the bar and to the right  the wall you entered through and to the left were brick  the few windows without were glass and within barred like a jail cell                                                                                                                               it gave an impression that if someone was shot inside theyd play taps for you

 

he had been driving nineteentwenty hours and pulled off the interstate when he saw the LODGING NEXT EXIT on the shoulder 

there was one motel  a diner inside it 

he checked in

across the two-lane road in need of attention was Taps & Shots

coming through door to quench his parched throat quicklyeyeballing the place it humour him to think that the highway sign ought to have read NEXT EXIT EXIT   tripleX  not for the weak of heart or stomach 

                                                                                           immediately he felt right at home

he took a stool at the bar in the corner across from Myrons

he liked to see who was coming in too

Dog walked up to him to take his order  he was drying a glass 

Ya tryin to be gauche

Gauche?

Nevermind  he read the stitched namepatch on his right breast  Yare Dog

Appears you can read.

he shrugged his shoulders crossed his armshands on either bicephugged himself  Brisk in here

Yah whadayave? 

WAIT! He’s mine! Mine!  Dog looked through a narrow partition wall that was studs only as a barmaid came around it drying her hands with paper towels  Yaknow the next customer was mine.

Yawere  he snickered  indisposed.

I ain’t now, am I?

You are not. he turned to him  Buddy.he hated being called Buddy Catcher’s gotcha.

Catcher

How are ya?  sure enough  perched above her ample left breastleaning back her namepatch in stitchedscript read Catcher

Im parched  Thought Id wet my whistle grab a bite to eat an hit the hay

Where ya traveling from?

Montana

Yaah mountain man?

Live in the Bitterroots  Spose I am

Oh good, I like mountain men.mighty brisk repartee  Catcher made him smile Now . . Mister . . . whadayave?

What beers yahave on tap

Got Leinenkugel, Milwaukee Brewing, Lakefront Brewery, Bell’s Brown Ale, KarbenFour Oaktober, New Glarus Staghorn, it’s Fall yaknow, got Old Style, Bud . .

. .  New Glarus sounds like a kick

I’d give ya a kick. she smiled wickedly  he thought he could see the tips of her canines

Careful, Buddy, she’ll eat you alive. said Dog still drying the same glass

Thanks  he nodded at the glass  Waterspots

Huh?

The glass

It’s yours, warming it up for ya, Buddy.

Names Joe

Okay, Buddy.

New Glarus, Dog.  I herdim  Catcher had stepped a bit closer to him was he was lipping with Dog  Staying long, Joe?

Not so long

Well, ifya need company . . just saying.

I appreciate your hospitality

Aim to please.

the New Glarus tap was at the other end of the bar and as Dog poured he called after Catcher as she went to collect the beer  A whisky too please  Irish if you have it

I gotcha Joe.  she cast over her shoulder as she continued walking and went around the corner  she had a nice caboose

she set his beer and Irish down  Redbreast.

Good choice

Thank ya, ya strike me as a breastman. another voracious smile and canines definitely  Excuse me, Joe, girl’s gotta make her money.

Catcher walked back to Dog who stayed to that side of the bar

a couple walked in  a third and fourth entered  DOG!

Heya!  he set to work at drinks 

usuals he assumed

Catcher went behind the bar to help

softly  but that he could still hear over the murmur  Cat, ya gotta quit workin these guys.

I --  I can’t help myself; and nobody else can either. I think I’m an addict.

At dick?

So clever, Dog. she gently punched him in the arm

he was pouringhis pour remained true  I have my moments, but Buddy?

He a mountain man. I’m an addict.

You’re a riot.

she lit a cigarette and put it in Dog’s mouth  Maybe that’ll shut you up.

he moved his mouthworked the cigarette to between his teeth and grit them  A fuckin’ riot.

Fuckin’s right. she punctuated the right  Girl's gotta pay her bills.

But with every Tom, Dick, and Harry. Yaknow they’re liars.

We’re all liars. I’ll edumacate ya. I convince them to think they make me wanna give it up for them.

Seduction.

AwHell, seduction’s a lie. Don't forget.

the drinks were made and as Dog placed them on a workedmetal circular tray nice presentation  like a brandnew shiny penny Catcher stepped to the otherside of the bar to take them to serve

Seductions a lie he said to himself  Bright girl.     

2206,  Sunday – D-Day,  6  6. 93

1351,  Thursday,  24  12. 20