‘How are you?!’ I said, quite cheerfully.
‘Shit,’ said the tender of an empty bar.
His ex girlfriend had cleaned out his bank account.
There was no hiding his misery.
It dripped into our drinks and some of it stuck to the rim of my cocktail.
Some of it had walked upstairs and played havoc with the atmosphere near our table.
We left it behind and laughed to wash it away.
But it was in our system and later is made us argue.
We won’t go back there.