BarkEEp 2

I crash down onto my favourite stool, and say, "The usual, Frank."

Then it registers. It's not Frank behind the bar; it's some older guy, with wild grey whiskers and a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Usual?" he says.

"Scotch."

"Predictable," he says, but pours it anyway.

"I need it," I say, "I'm having a hell of a time at home ..."

"Another story about a middle-aged man in a mid-life crisis?" he sneers.

"Yeah, well, what am I gonna do? I've been put down, I've been humiliated, I've been treated like dirt