Chapter 10
I arrive at the small, dingy bar on Clifton Street where college students hang out when they’re not in class or studying.
I’ve tossed back an occasional beer at the hole-in-the-wall bar before retreating back to my apartment to drink alone, drowning in self-pity.
I find Ryan hunched over a bar stool at the counter when I enter the near empty saloon near the downtown Post Office and the housing project apartments.
A pungent smell of booze and body odor assault me as I take a seat next to Ryan.
“Looks like you’re getting an early start,” I say, waving off the burly bartender who slides a napkin in front of me and asks for my order.
A line of a dozen shot glasses sits atop the counter’s edge, and the shaggy-haired man goes back to drying them, one by one, staring up at flat s
