It was like the whole bar wanted to say something and everyone was just waiting for the first person to do it and then they would all yell at once.
Or line up and do it in an orderly fashion.
Why had he decided Deruso’s was a good idea?
Because alone was a bad idea.
“The bullpen sucks again,” Bakie said, throwing little plastic shot glasses in the trash.
Bakie would be the first one to say something.
Deruso’s niece let the staff start drinking at midnight. By 12:30 Bakie would grab him by the forearm and say some trite shit like “It’s gonna be alright.”
The back door opened and there was a shriek so piercing it was like the noise had pushed it open.
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