Friday you could find us in our usual place, sitting at the bar and more specifically by where they make the drinks or pour the drafts. We watch as one bartender mixes a drink and pours it into two martini glasses. We know they are going to table eleven, well I know it’s table eleven, the others know it as the table in the front corner.

At table eleven are two elderly women. They came in carrying a couple small bags from stores in the area, normally I would assume that they are tourists but these ladies had a certain familiar confidence about them. I guessed their ages to be around seventy.

“Jen what are those?” Dick asked.

“They’re margarita’s.”

“Those ladies are drinking margarita’s? You gotta like their style.”

“They come in all the time and drink one margarita each” Noel added. Noel was the waitress serving the ladies.

“Isn’t that something?”

“Why don’t you buy them a drink?” I asked.

“Why don’t you?” he asked back

“I think I will. Noel I got those. How much?” I asked reaching into my pocket. I was running a tab but it’s a pain to transfer drinks from the floor to the bar so I was going to pay cash.

“Twenty-one” Twenty one was more than I expected but I started counting unphased. I had a twenty peeled off when Noel said “No sir. It’s only fourteen” so I tossed her the twenty past Dick who was sitting to my right.

That’s when my two friends and the bartender started asking questions and making crazy accusations, like I was trying to get lucky, or trying to be some rich lady’s boytoy and trying to get on the will. I just let them have there fun and kept the real reason to myself.

I watched those ladies come in, I could tell they had been friends for a long time and I sensed that possibly the two of them only had each other to depend on, on most days. If either one of them had to make a call it was going to be to the other one of them. I smiled at the thought of being retired and just hanging out with a good friend as the rest of the busy world rushed by and me not giving a care. I also thought that buying them a drink would give them something to talk about on Bingo night or its equivalent. Buying them a drink would mean more than just saving them fourteen bucks.

Once the jokes died down, Dick purposefully looked past my left to the lady that was sitting there.

“Why don’t you buy her a drink? She’s pretty.”

I just sighed a bit and said “We’ll see” I didn’t actually buy her a drink but told her about the free buffet that would be put out soon after I heard her ask about the appetizers. She seemed to be having some sort of worry. It seemed to be a relationship problem which is actually why I didn’t buy her a drink. I thought there was too much of a chance that I would end up being a band-aid solution for something that was more than skin deep.

After awhile it was just me, I usually outlast my friends and the other early regulars.

“What do you want before you yell at me?” Lauren asked.

“When have I ever yelled at you?”

“Last week when I put a beer in front of you and you said that maybe you didn’t want a beer?”

“Oh yeah, I remember that but I didn’t yell.”

“So, what do you want?”

“I was thinking gin and ginger”

After that I ordered a Red Death as a drink as opposed to a shot. Red Death tastes a lot like fruit punch even though it’s ninety eight percent booze.

“You’re gonna get fucked up” Lauren said as she passed me my drink. I just shrugged my shoulders.

When my glass was empty Jen asked what was next and I said I was done, she protested just as I saw Nina walk in behind her. I see Nina rarely, I think just five times in the years I been going there so I decided to stay for another one.

“Okay, I’ll have another. You can pick it.”

As Jen was making my drink Nina was telling me about the 'March of the Penguins' and that I should see it. I’m always surprised by the familiarity that Nina shows me even though I rarely see her. I assume it because she roommates with Lauren.

Jen placed a martini glass in front of me and Nina asked her what it was, Jen told her the ingredients and then Nina asked what the name if it was.

“It doesn’t have a name” but then she thought a moment. “I call it a Timmy-tini.”

I was truly done after the Timmy-tini and asked for my bill. I took a quick look at it and noticed I wasn’t charged for at least my last drink.

“This doesn’t exist if I don’t get charged for it” I said pointing at my empty glass.

“Oh, it exists alright” Jen said and I later found out that her words where true riding home on the subway. I had to stop thinking of Timmy-tini’s because every time I did I would laugh. I’m glad there weren’t a lot of folks around.