“This guy’s weird.”

I looked over my shoulder and recognized the guy she was talking about; he sat next to me. He ordered a beer and then helped himself to the free buffet. I could hear him eat.

“McDoogan’s, that an Irish bar, right?” I heard him say into his cell phone. That’s when I took a deep breath and then laughed to myself and then wished that he would head over to McDoogan’s.


...

The benches are a homeless hangout. I’m looking out the window enough to recognize the cast of characters. They’re not allowed in the bar but sometimes this one guy will come in when the manger’s attention is elsewhere.

The guy’s name is Shawn, I would guess his age to be early sixties, he’s one of the cleaner ones. He sat in the empty chair next to me, which was probably best for him because I’m not in the habit of making scenes.

He started talking to me, his goal was to get me to buy him a drink but I just stalled until the manager dragged him out.

“They always find you,” LB said. She was hanging out behind the bar even though she quit the place.

I smiled and nodded my head. They always seem to.