The fight spilled out of the bar, hairy men and unhairy men fighting and flailing about, delivering injury. And the ladies found their seats

They drove west toward the setting sun. Just pull over if you can’t see, she said. So you can punch me? he asked. He took off his sunglasses

Jim orders another bourbon. I deserve some love, he says to no one. He surveys the bar. He’s alone. How do you swing? he asks the bartender.

The date is going well, he thinks. She keeps touching her hair. She’s pretty too. And laughing at his jokes. Were you ever bulimic? he asks.