Chapter Six

Roth was slowly spinning a highball glass while lost in thought as several voices entered his ears, his eyes fixed on the glass. He had way too many glasses in him to distinguish between the voices.

The voices of people talking, arguing over sports, complaining about work or spouses, their laughter, the clink of ice in a highball drink as it was stirred, the murmur of low voices from people on a nearby table who don't want to be overheard, barstools being dragged, loud noises of a game or fight on the TV, music from a radio, the glug of beer in a bottle, dollar bills rustling, the thump of a bottles and glasses on the bar, the squeak of door hinges opening and closing, rattling air in the tubes when a keg went dry, the whir of a blender, and people’s roar of excitement or dismay at the sporting event on the TV all seemed to blur into one buzz.

When Roth had arrived at the bar, he had not thought it through. What he had forgotten was that it was his first time being in public alone a