Someone had talked the bartender into doing her flaming shots, so I was stranded at the bar, staring across at the fat girls in their perfect makeup, the breakably pretty art student and her defeated boyfriend, the kid who looked a lot like--

When he looked up, it really was Nick. What was I doing there? What was he?

No, yeah. He'd come in from Ypsi with some friends to see the band. He was good. They'd moved him up to day manager. I'd gone without telling him.

Yeah, I said.

But how was I? What had I been doing since I left Weber's?

I couldn't remember.

March 4,