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“Hey there, Sandor. Looks like you could use a drink, ” the bartender said with a smile.
“Aye” said the young man, head down, looking a little ragged.
“What happened to ya?”
“Yeah, Jimmy. I got jumped by a rat-faced, good-for-nuthin merchant and his pal. Real mo-rons.”
“Really? How come?” said the bartended, not seeming the least bit surprised.
“The merchant accused me of trying to steal from his buddy. Said he saw me take something… Can you believe that?!” he said raising his head enough to reveal a devilish smirk.
“Huh. I’m shocked. So you got caught?”
“Jimmy, you know me better than that. While the two of ’em was getting in a couple licks, feeling all proud, I relieved the merchant of his coin pouch and slipped away. Like I said, a couple of mo-rons.”
Sandor finishes his drink, nods to Jimmy, then slides out the door and blends away. Jimmy clears the empty mug, pockets the coin pouch, and goes about his business. Tuesdays are good.
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