At the Nip N' Nectar....

It was two clicks past 7:00.  That meant I was at my regular hang, a  local joint just past the bird feeder and to the left of the hammock.  It also meant that I was trying to  forget about my meaningless day buzzing through my usual menial blue-collar trash-collecting job around the Yard.  But I had a system to erase that god-awful block of eight hours.  And that system was the same everyday:  downing a couple of stinging stiff ones at the Nip N Nectar.  

It was just after that first sweet sip...you know that feeling… the one that pops your taste buds open like a newborn larva’s eyes when it catches that first glimpse of daylight...that I started to unwind.  I was on my third and watching the bottom of the 9th when my snitch, Maggot, walked in with a dame that made my eyes spin: Ms. Quito.  

Maggot gave me the signal and I knew it was time for what is discreetly known as my ‘second job.’   I sure wish my second job was dancing tango with that hot Ecuadorian morsel dangling on his arm.  She was dangerous bait, and I knew I had to have her eventually.  But business is business.  If Maggot showed up, it meant there was trouble brewing some where in the Yard and it was time for me, Eyes Bigley, private dick, to rustle up some damage.