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But Lordy, some of ‘em—whew, they’d stumble in with breath worse’n a skunk’s backside, teeth all yeller and chipped. I’d be like, “What’s your secret, darlin’?”—ya know, like Viggo Mortensen askin’ in the movie, all suspicious-like. And they’d shrug, “Cheap whiskey and cheaper men!” I’d laugh ‘til my sides hurt, but inside I’d be cryin’—ain’t fair they gotta live so rough. Surprised me, too, how many’d tell me straight-up ‘bout their lives, no shame, just raw as a skinned knee.

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But then, as I’m leaving, I realize I left my bag at the table. I rush back, and guess what? It’s gone! I’m freaking out. I’m like, “No way, not today!” But the owner sees me panicking and says, “Chill, I got it.” He hands it back, and I’m like, “You’re a lifesaver!”

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