Only other guy at the bar is thirtysomething and says to the bartender, tall woman all frecklespeckled with red hair, he’s surprised by how relaxed it is in here. He says this is his first visit.
“Place looks so fancy,” he says, “everytime I get near it I feel like I gotta book.”
She shrugs, wiping the counter in fast circles, “We’re not so fancy.”
He asks where she’s from.
“Virginia. What about you, you’re Cuban?”
“Yeah but I was born in New York.”
“I lived there for a while.”
He grins and does some clicking thing with his mouth. “It’s the best, I miss it.”
Bar tender puts a tender hand on the small of her back while straightening, and tossing the rag into the liquor well, exhaling. Strain of work written in her posture, her breathing, sweaty face. “Ahdunno.” She shakes her head slowly and looks either tired or defeated. “Wish it wasn’t so expensive.”