“Had a drink, sat in with The Petes. Around 12:30 A.M., that Kitten, Gillian Phoenix, heavy on my mind, I wanted to see if my first impressions were correct. * * * Going down the outside cement steps, I entered The Cat's cozy basement world. Walking past the familiar parquet bar, I sensed something was up. I hung my tan blazer on the back of 1A and loosened my tie. From Wurlitzer, Travis Tritt sang “Best of Intentions”. I looked around. Maybe ten other customers sat in booths, five at the ba...r. Then I noticed Angelo emerging from the back room area. Standing at the service end of the bar, seeing me, instead of the usual warm greeting, he scowled a dull black funeral bunting. He waddled down to face me. The black bunting a brooding silence, he wore his usual uniform—gray slacks, white long sleeve shirt, red vest, bolo tie (tonight a silver arrowhead, about the size of my fist, knotted his bolo), and the Vitalis wafted from his countenance. He didn't offer his usual I'm-handing-you-my-last-dollar-and-see-my-pinkie-ring right hand across the bar.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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