Several empty beer glasses adorn the table in the booth Barbie and Tamara share along the back wall of the pub. Barbie looks clear as a button, but Tamara is swaying and unfocused. Slurring her words.
“That bastard, I have no idea when he even came in last night.”
“Did you ask him?”
“I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction. He wants to know he can tell me.”
Barbie bites back a chuckle, “You mean you’re going to ask or you want him to tell you?.”
“Yeah that’s wha’ I said.”
