Halbherz wrote:
"Hey champ", Olaf finally calls out to the barguy, his frayed patience worn thin at last.
"Champ, I bin waitin fer a guy here, and hee dint come. Anyone askin fer me tonite, tellem I still got him his fuckin book an pickchers, an I esspect him toomorrow, rite here, same time. Think you can tellem that?"
A little belatedly, the Esel digs deep in his pockets for a few crumpled-up bills, and smoothens them down on the counter: two bucks for the errand. Then Olaf checks his knapsack: still closed; and shoulders it. "Stupid fuckin fel", he mutters, but quickly casts his gaze floorwards as he realizes he's still within earshot of the coyanina. As if to explain, he shrugs (knapsack bouncing on his bony back), and brays, "One a dem nights where nuthing works out rite."
The bitch flicks an ear absently, dismissivly, shrugs broad shoulders and takes a long drink of beer. " 'salright. Them days gotta happen so the good days seem better. Want a beer to make you feel better? My treat."