She was angry. She had just yelled at the guy that she didn't like him and that he is never to return while she's working. I was sitting right next to the guy. He was perplexed. He left.

"Why were you talking to him?" She asked me still rather riled up.

"You know I'll talk-listen to anyone. What was I supposed to do? Ignore the guy?"

"Timmy! I don't like him. Don't ever speak to him again" even though she was phrasing what she said as commands there was a sense of pleading in her voice. She then crumpled up the five dollar bill the guy left as a tip and threw it into the trash bin. She had told him that she didn't want his money before he had left, I guess she wasn't joking about it.

"Why do you let that guy get you angry? He's nobody."

"Yeah but he comes in here and starts throwing money around like he's something. I hate him."

The guy did buy me three or four beers and he bought a few drinks for a couple of women at the table behind us. He's a player. He thinks money is more valuable than soul or character or honor or goodness. Where he lacks in life he fills with loot.

you can see it in his eyes

it looks like he's a little drunk or a little tired or a little of both, not exactly but similar.

a little deadening directly behind the eyes

a little something less than normal

a little lack of life

it's only noticed when you look him in the eye. The talk, the laugh, the smile, all seem genuine until you look into his eyes.

it reminds me of a room lit with a forty watt bulb

I listen to his kind because it reminds me that I don't want to be his kind.

She came out from behind the bar and sang karaoke, first "I've got you babe" which she sang as a duet with the waitress and then "Great Balls of Fire" as a solo. She left the catalog of songs in front of me and when she came back, she caught me looking through it.

"What are you looking at that for? You aren't going to sing."

"I might. I'm seeing what's here."

"You won't sing"

"No?"

"No, because you're a pussy"

I wasn't even looking at her during the whole exchanged and I just smiled and shook my head at the catalog. She walked away looking over her shoulder, smiling, waiting for a reply because she knows usually I'm up for dares that come my way but I wasn't biting that night, although if she asked me nicely I might have sung Mrs. Steven Rudy which I was surprised to see listed.