Robinson's Friends Take Him to a Western-Themed BarKathleen Rooney
though he's come from afar not to be near the West. The marquee horse jumps the neon fence & saddle-shaped barstools line the natural-stone bar. Robinson addles his head with whiskey. Jack Delaney's Steak House is lousy with horsesâ€”horses, horses, everywhere horses. Everyone looks risky when the lights are so red. The sign on the men's room door says: Coltsâ€”Geldingsâ€”Studs. Which one is Robinson? A wild night out, a wild night to be wild. Robinson's friends are high mild questioners & he listens to their non sequiturs, their sine qua whatevers: Why do you always want to fuck when you're drinking? & In vino veritas & That's a big knife & those girls are really drunk. He could be home with his Smith Corona. Instead, he's drinking a Smith & Wesson. The nags on the walls seem to nag in his ears: It'll be a bad night unless you call it a day. Remember, when you fall, you never fall halfway. Something's being learned here, but not a lesson.
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