Double Shot
“I eased the front door open.“You’re kidding!” he protested. He wrote a quick note for Arch, then hustled out behind me. “The Grizzly has at least one drunken brawl a night.”“Don’t worry. The guys usually fight with each other, not some caterer who just want to use the phone. At least, that’s what I hope.”<8>As Tom and I made our way down the street, smoke suddenly filled our nostrils. I coughed, then took shallow breaths. This was no barbecue smoke. Moreover, the night was warm, the sun had jus...t set, and I doubted anyone needed a fire for warmth. I hadn’t heard a report of a wildfire, and neither had Tom. If there was any news, the Grizzly was sure to have it.A sign hanging from the bucked eave read: “Never Out of Service Since 1870.” Never redecorated, either, I thought as we pushed through the arched, louvered half doors and shuffled across a genuine sawdust-covered floor. I registered the presence of at least six dozen bankers, electricians, lawyers, plus assorted ne’er-do-wells.MoreLess
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