Arlene Wint liked to think her three decades dedicated to keeping Wakpa’s finest drinking establishment up and running should qualify her for some sort of honorary degree. A PhD in social psychology seemed about right, perhaps with a focus on the interplay between alcohol consumption and s****l relationships. She could have dashed off dissertations in her sleep.
Take the brunette girl at the far end of the bar, for example, currently being plied with drinks by the flannel-clad young man beside her. It wasn’t going to work out; Arlene could tell that straightaway by how the girl kept sneaking glances at her phone. Her hopeful Romeo should have been able to see that, if he hadn’t had a couple shots himself.
Then there was the young couple over by the door. Pretty blond girl, cute as a butt
