Free Bartender by William Vitka Page B

over the speakers. She doesn’t give anything up.
    She says instead: “You look like cops even when you’re not lookin like cops. I know your faces from the papers. You think I’m gonna give you some shit on Kieron? You’re wrong. That man hasn’t done anything except take care of his son.”
    Saim says, “Well, has he got any reason to avoid cops?”
    “He was the one serving you drinks all damn night, wasn’t he? For free? Tell me how that’s avoiding cops.”
     
    ***
     
    Joe says, “You’re a charmer, you know that?”
    Saim says, “Eat a hot bowl of dicks.”
     
    ***
     
    Saim thinks, Man, that was a dumb way to start things .
    Got too excited, wanting to go into the bar and ask questions. Stupid.
    So they case the place instead.
    Watch what sorry losers drag themselves in and out.
    Plenty of sad bastards.
    But Saim’s not looking for that. None of the regulars. He’s looking for someone a little concerned, but happy, and doesn’t fit with that bar crowd. Someone cautious and not really sure what to do with whatever not-exactly legal thing they just been a part of.
    He’s looking for a friend of the bartender.
    They got a look. All of em do.
    Saim sees her come outta the apartment building right next to the bar. Pretty girl. Nice figure. Young. Late twenties or early thirties. Dark hair, pulled back. Might be Hispanic.
    She walks by the bar window. Taps on the glass. Waves in to blonde broad. Like they know each other.
    Saim points. “I wanna talk to her.”
     
    ***
     
    Sarah figures: Fuck it .
    Figures she’ll take a long walk. Get away from Kieron and Aaron and the apartment. Give the bartender some time to cool off. Just let the man sleep off whatever stupid got ahold of him last night.
    He’s a good man.
    He is.
    Her brain says: Is he? This guy you’ve known a bit over a year and been fuckin for six months. You heard him last night. What world of shit have you walked into?
    Stealing. Mugging. Robbery.
    Junkie ex-con sonuvabitch.
    And they got your name down at the pawnshop, sweetheart.
    She shakes her head at the thought.
    She mumbles to herself. “Kieron says he’s gonna take care of it. He says he’s gonna do something, he does it.”
    She walks over to 1st Ave, then north till she hits St. Mark’s. She wants falafel. She wants Mamoun’s falafel. Best in the city.
    She passes by a bookstore. Pierce’s Paper. Neat joint tucked away between the dipshit college kids and the porn and the coffee and the tattoo shops. Tucked between these fuckers pretending they’re “living the life” dirty and grimy cuz they live in a certain part of America.
    She gets in line at Mamoun’s and thinks maybe she should leave the city.
    Then she wonders where she’d get food like this and nixes moving.
    She feels a tap on her shoulder.
    Turns.
     
    ***
     
    Saim locks eyes with the girl.
    She says, “Can I help you?”
    He sees the ring she’s got on. “I couldn’t help myself. That ring, it’s gorgeous. Where did you get it?”
     
    ***
     
    Sarah forgot she had it on.
    After the fight with Kieron, she’d left the bauble on her finger as a kind of silent protest. Drunk, stupid protest—but protest nonetheless.
    After everything, she still has it on.
    Shit .
     
    ***
     
    Saim wraps his arm around Joe.
    Joe eyes him but Saim ignores his partner’s look.
    Joe knows.
    Just go with it .
    Saim throws on a little bit of a lisp. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. But that ring, oh my, it’s stunning. I sure do wish my big spoon here would get me one like it.”
    Joe rolls his eyes. “Well if you didn’t leave your stinky dirty underwear all over the—”
    “If he wants to keep me around he’ll get me one anyway. And I do all the dishes—” Saim pats Joe’s chest “—so eat pretty little shits, dear.”
    “You do crap chocolate, love.”
    The girl watches this sitcom. Smirks. Shakes her head and stares at her feet for a second. A weak “Uhhh” escapes her lips.
    Saim can’t tell if