Silence reigned in an OTA joint as three OTA men and one OTA man sat at the bar.
The Andy Griffin Show played on low volume on television.
A meth man walked into play a video line game and walked out seconds later.
A deep fryer gurgled grease.
A blind man played pool.
Something about everything cohered to produce as sexless a moment as every time a Trump family member has sex.
I watched the bar from a corner table and wrote a letter to a wild animal. My porter was flat.
Donna Summer’s legendary disco hit, “Love to Love You Baby,” came on the jukebox at an ear-splitting level. It’s the song where she simulates 23 or 28 orgasms.
One of us had chosen the song. We all stared at one another. It was showdown of sorts, and it was exactly high noon.