After what seemed like weeks had  
gone by, my workday finally ended, and 
I know the molasses thing isn’t true,  
but anyone who’s had to do real work   
for a living, knows exactly what I’m   
talking about.                         
     The bar, Joe’s Tavern, was a place
downtown that I’d been to many times   
before, including that night with Beth.
It's where D hung out between jobs, as 
he liked to call them.                 
     I knew the owner pretty well. He  
was also the only bartender there. His 
explanation was that he liked to keep  
expenses to the minimum, and sometimes 
I’d help out by take a shift when he   
had something important to do, or by   
just jumping behind the bar, when      
things got busy.                       
     I never expected any money for it,
* because he was a buddy. Besides, I       
enjoyed it, and I didn’t get to do it  
very often anyway, especially since I  
met Beth.                              
     Every time he tried to give me    
money, we’d get into this fake argu-   
ment, but then I'd quickly give in,    
grumble, and hide the money some place,
where he’d find it later.              
     Or, I’d keep buying beer after    
beer, tipping him five dollars each    
time, and that also fake pissed him    
off, because he knew my motto and      
couldn't refuse it.                    
     Sometimes, I'd just keep buying   
drinks for everyone in the house until 
it was gone, and that fake pissed him  
off even more, and since it was fake,  
he'd have to follow it all up with a   
little show.                           



CHAPTER 10: WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29th
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