The Bar - With/Without
|He took a stool at the bar and ordered a whiskey sour. He sank it in a single gulp, ordered another and told the barman to keep them coming.|
As he lit a cigarette a woman on the next stool leaned over and spoke to him. He took another cigarette from the crumpled pack and handed it over, offering a light. She took it, drawing the smoke into her lungs.
The barman returned with his whiskey sour and the man told him to get whatever the girl was having and stick it on his tab. She asked for a martini and thanked him. He shrugged, muttering under his breath.
The woman smiled.
"Whiskey sour," said the man.
"Coming right up."
"Another, and keep 'em coming."
"May I have one of those?" asked the woman on the next stool.
"Another whiskey sour, sir."
"Thanks. Give the lady whatever she wants. On me."
"Martini. Dry. Thank you."
"Pretty lady deserves a drink," he shrugged.