Give me another, Paul, on the rocks," Neil told the bartender at Roasters in Atlanta. He was on his fifth shot of Hennessey and he lost count of how many beers he had drank.

"All right, buddy, but this is your last one," the burly bartender forewarned him. "I can't have you leaving out of here hurting yourself."

"I'm about to go home anyway. I just need one more for the road." Neil felt empty with only his career to fulfill him, and even his career left the glass half empty.

The bartender handed him the glass of brown fluid, which served as Neil's lifeline for the moment. He gulped half of it down with one swig.

"Thanks, man," Neil said, setting the glass down on a coaster.

"Hey, let me ask you something."

"Sure. Go right ahead." The bartender gave a look to say he was used to people getting drunk and talking him to death.

"Have you ever had a woman taken from you by another woman?"

"I can't say I have, but that explains it."

"What?"

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"That explains why you've been trying to drown your sorrows in liquor tonight. Man, you've got to be strong. What you should have done was asked to join the two ladies for a little hanky panky." The bartender adjusted the rubber band on his brunette ponytail and put on his leather rider jacket. He gave advice like a bar-side shrink.

"I couldn't with this one, man. It just…it just…"

"Hurt so bad? Is that what you're trying to say, fella?"

"Yeah." Neil looked around to make sure his conversation was not being eavesdropped on. He wasn't a punk about his, but he needed to talk about it to somebody. "It hurt, man. I loved that girl."

"I'm telling you if you go and screw both of 'em it will change that 'hurt so bad' to a 'hurt so good' feeling."

Neil laughed for the first time in twenty-four hours. "I guess you're right, man, but she's a wrap. I'm moving on."

"You and me both. Mind if I sit down?" A blonde with beautiful curls flowing down her back pointed to the seat beside his.

"Oh…no. By all means, go right ahead."

"I overheard part of your conversation, and like they say, misery loves company. So, I thought we would be good together. Maybe we could exchange war stories." She held her left hand out to him. He did not miss the fact that an expensive ring sheltered her ring finger.




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