The round I cannot afford

I buy the first round even when the account reads like a bad joke. Habit. Superstition. Pride with a tip jar. Trump Station taught me that charm is cheaper than silence when the hop is late and the night is long.

Cole wants the bar interview. Fine. Free whiskey and a chorus the crew can shout — that is the deal. Soft hold-music edits can wait outside with the soft shoes. I introduce songs with berth board numbers because place names keep the swagger honest.

Catch Lagrange Last Call when the lights dim and the tip jar still has room. Bring your throat. Leave the soft landing. The coil-steel will still shine.