I'm also sure that I gave him my number over Eggo waffles, and I'm just as sure that he never called me, and never showed up during one of my shifts at The Bar again. Someone has got to listen to Jack when he gets going about his job. Through the front window of the Bar, I can see the colors of the street changing with the progressing sunset, when an attractive, sharply dressed woman in her mid-thirties steps up to the bar. It's Thursday afternoon.
The cap isn't as much of a guarantee of better tips here at the Pub as it used to be at The Bar , but it still gives me the excuse for a ponytail. Dining Room Table Current Music: And so I won't, other than to say two things: