“Time to cash in your tab?” the bartender asked.



“Not quite. Pray tell what is that woman drinking over there?”



“Cosmopolitan last time I checked.”



“Make her another. And I shall have the same.”



“I think you have had quite enough.” Marcus handed the bartender a hundred dollar bill to silence this protest, “Err, right away sir.” The bartender made up the drinks, and handed them to Marcus. Marcus thanked him, and seemed to practically gravitate to the woman’s table. He cleared his throat.



“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” The woman looked at him with a start.



“That all depends.”



“On?”



“Whether or not one of those drinks is for me.”



“And if one just so happened to be?”



“Then I might be able to make room.” Marcus handed her one of the glasses, “Then again, that seat could very well be my husband’s who happens to be in the bathroom. And he just might kick the ever-loving shit out of you if he happens to see you sitting there.” Marcus seated himself.



“Or you could be bullshitting me and said husband is a cheating prick whom you are preparing to divorce.” The woman practically choked on her straw at these words.

“How could you possibly know that?” Marcus smiled.



“Call it a lucky guess.” He removed his fedora and revealed a fair twenty-something face, “I’m Mark.”

