“A change apparent at first glance to anyone who’d known him, even as casually as I had. Not transmuted as lead into gold, but more as brass into iron. Rusty, worn, beaten, or perhaps just hammered iron, but iron nonetheless. Hair still dark; handsome face still unwrinkled; frame still slender, yet muscular; but now age and experience hung about him like an aura.I had just entered Joel’s Hole as was my habit of a Friday night—after a week at the desk—to drink a few beers, to shoot the proverbial... shit, and to hope that some woman would pick me up and take me home. Since I almost never had the courage to try to pick up a woman myself, I relied on an occasional desperate woman who might make the first move on me.Regularly, at some point during most evenings at Joel’s, I had a brief, backslapping, chest-puffing conversation with Billy. An exchange usually inspired by a desire to get closer to Billy’s companion. He would be there with a different woman almost every Friday, usually recently met, almost always the most attractive girl in the club.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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