Heard the sirens. Woke me up, even though I sleep light. Thought the whole town was on fire. The wife slept through the whole thing.
I thought I heard some commotion. I was in The Handsome.
Don’t know why anyone would spend good money in that place. I heard it’s gone to hell.
I was meeting with Davy Copec, fella that runs the dry cleaning place.
I know who Davy is. Heard he has to shut down.
Not yet, but he’s hurting. Wanted to borrow my pick-up. Bought me a drink or two. Spent a couple of hours chewing the fat. He’s a boring fella; kept forgetting my name.
He’s from out-of-state, ain’t he? Somewhere out west?
I heard up north, one of the Dakotas. Decent enough when he’s sober.
You couldn’t pull me into The Handsome with a chain-fall. It’s gone to seed.
It ain’t bad if you shut your eyes. Henry Wasson don’t care who he serves, as long as there’s cash money on the bar. He ain’t doing so well. He was drinking along with the regulars, and you know that ain’t good for business.
His daddy wasn’t a business man, neither. I thought for sure it’d shut down after he passed.
Henry ain’t bad. Drinking just runs in the family. He can’t help it.
I thought his name was Moe.
Moe whozzit. Moe Ford. Skinny little guy, big head.
Naw, you’re thinking of someone else. Henry Wasson runs the place. Thought you knew that.
Never been in there. I heard it’s gone to hell.
Excerpt from Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0
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