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Buddies
by John Stewart
© John Stewart
Danny
slid a beer along the bar. I took a gulp, then another. We didn’t even
look at each other. He patted the stool beside him. “Sit down for
chrissakes.”
The bartender filled our glasses. “You guys fallen out?” “Me
and Joe? Hell no,” Danny grinned. “Joe’s all mine.” He reached across
and ruffled my hair. I jerked away; I hated him doing that. He wiped
the beer suds from his mouth. “Gotta go,” he told me. “See you back
home. Don’t wait up.” He knew I would; I always did. I always waited up for him.
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