I knew before C’s beat-up silver whatever-on-wheels reached the curve of the dirt path. No fish fry. Now who is going to tell my big belly it’s not getting any food!
Cleveland looks at me. I’m speechless from sheer disappointment.
“I need a $%!@ing.drink.”
This is the bar
We get our drinks then walk to the beachside. I can’t talk until the alcohol does it job.
