The day began with a shot. No bullets mind you: she wasn’t that giving. It was a row of shots lining the bar table that gave me solace. I was an average Joe and nothing special. It was obvious. Bulging stomach, reseeding hairline, and all those beautiful traits a forty year old salesman from Tuskegee gets from his old man. Whatta joy, ya know. The bar was scattered with the refuse of human lose. Men whose lives lost what meaning it had when their manhood had gone south with their children, or their job had gone the way of the Dodo with the secretary and all the profits.

“Set you up ‘nother round Sam?” the bartender asked casually. Johnny the bartender was as methodical in the cleanliness of his counter as the homeless guy who lived out back in the alley. He was a good sort with a waist line that made me look like ‘Ol Blue eyes at the Sands in his prime.
“Two more on the rocks and be generous. My liver needs more company and my bladder’s on E.” He took the four empty glasses away and filled two more with tequila and ice.
“Here you go Sam.“ his head sat a little low as he was cleaning out some glasses. The ice in each glass clinked like chimes caught in a soft breeze. His voice was sympathetic,

“Sorry to hear about Jenny and the kids. It’s a damn shame. You gotta raw deal if ya ask me, I tell ya. Youse a good guy that got shafted by the system. Too many’a guy I’s seen come through them doors” his head shook left to right as he spoke, ” has got the same story.” He stretched the word ‘same’ for all it was worth, then stopped.

The ‘system’ as he so eloquently put it, was the state of Nevada granting my wife full custody of my son and daughter and puttin’ me on the hook for alimony to boot. It’d only been a few months, but it felt like a life time.

“You got that right Johnny.” Raising my shot glass in unison, “There ain’t no justice for the little guy. None of us. The mouthpiece representin’ me didn’t give a fig, and neither did the Judge. Ya know, he even let Jenny move out of state with the kids. ’In the best interest of the kids’ he says.” I shot the tequila down my throat with the pan ash of a true Las Vegas bum.

 

 

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