I drove down to a bar where I hadn’t been in trouble yet—Blinky’s. It looked fair at first glance: lots of leather booths, fools, darkness, smoke. A congenial deadliness floated in the air. I found a booth, sat down. Waitress arrived dressed in some silly outfit—pink playsuit with cotton pushing up her breasts. She smiled a horrible smile, showed one gold tooth. Her eyes read empty.
“What’ll it be, honey?” her voice grated.
“Two bottles of beer. No glass.”
“Two bottles, honey?”
“Yeah.”
“What brand?”
“Something Chinese.”
“Chinese?”
“Two bottles of Chinese beer. No glass.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“You gonna drink both those beers?”
“I hope so.”
“Then why don’t you drink one, then order another? Stay cold that way.”
“I just want to do it this way. There’s a reason, I guess.”
“You find out that reason, honey, you tell me…”
“Why should I tell you? Maybe I want to keep it to myself.”
“Sir, you know, we don’t have to serve you. We reserve the right to refuse service to anybody.”
“You mean, you won’t serve me because I’m ordering two Chinese beers and not telling you why?”
“I didn’t say we wouldn’t serve you. I said we reserve the right not to.”
“Look, the reason is security, a subconscious need for security. I had a rotten childhood. Two bottles at once fills a void that needs filling. Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Honey, I’m going to tell you something. You need a shrink.”
“All right. But until I get one, can I have two bottles of Chinese beer?”
A big guy in a dirty white apron walked up.
“What’s the trouble here, Betty?”
“This guy wants two bottles of Chinese beer. Without a glass.”
“Betty, he’s probably waiting for a friend.”
“He doesn’t have a friend, Blinky.”
Blinky looked at me. He was another big fat guy. He was two big fat guys.
“Don’t you have a friend?” he asked me.
“No,” I answered.
“Then what do you want with two bottles of Chinese beer?”
“I want to drink them.”
“Why don’t you order one, finish it, then order another?”
“I’d rather do it this way.”
“I never heard of that,” said Blinky.
“Why can’t I do it? Is it against the law?”
“No, it’s just strange, that’s all.”
“I told him he needs a shrink,” said Betty.
They both stood there looking at me. I took out a cigar and lit it up.
“That thing stinks,” said Blinky.
“So do your excreta,” I said.
“What?”
“Bring me,” I said, “three bottles of Chinese beer. No glass.”
“This guy is a nut,” said Blinky.
I looked at him and laughed.
Then I said, “Don’t talk to me again. And don’t do anything, anything at all to irritate me or I’ll blow your lips right off your fucking face, buddy boy.”
Blinky froze. He looked like he was going to have a bowel movement.
Betty stood there.
A minute passed. Then Betty said, “What’ll I do, Blinky?”
“Get him three bottles of Chinese beer. No glass.”
Betty left for the beers.
“Now you,” I said to Blinky, “you sit yourself down across from me. I want you to watch me drinking these three Chinese beers.”
“Sure,” he said, sliding himself, somehow, into the booth across from me.
He was sweating. All three of his chins were trembling.
“Blinky,” I asked him, “you haven’t seen the Red Sparrow, have you?”
“The Red Sparrow?”
“Yes, the Red Sparrow.”
“Haven’t seen it,” said Blinky.
Betty was arriving with the Chinese beers.
At last.