Chapter 17
(Sitka. 3 1/2 Mile Club. Tuesday night.)
“I don’t know what was so important we needed to actually get together,” she groused as she returned from the ladies’ room.
Maybe the ladies’ room was in better shape than the men’s room at the 3 1/2 Mile Club, Ben Daniels thought, because he wouldn’t use the men’s room no matter how urgent it got.
This had been his first bar. Seedy. A stripper bar. He had struck pay dirt when he found that bored Coast Guard wives would strip while their husbands were out to sea. Thirty years on, God, 40 years, he still didn’t get that dynamic. But it had been profitable for him. And it didn’t seem to increase the divorce rate, so what the hell.
The crowd tonight was the usual mix of old sourdoughs, rowdy sailors, and a few tourists from out of town.
