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A Time And A Place For Business

“You heard that, huh?”

“You telling me it ain’t true?” He never raised his head once. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen The General’s eyes. I reckon he has a pair – I’ve seen him driving that beat-up Nash 600 around and I’ve never seen him run anyone over or curb it.

“I’m telling you I don’t know what you heard or who you heard it from, and this is a hell of a place for negotiations,” I replied, trying to be cool. It was hard to be cool in that damn humidity. Even my beer was warm.

His hat moved around a little. I assumed he was checking the place out a little. Otis, over in the corner with his guitar, began playing “Love In Vain.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with it,” The General said.

I tried to bend so I could look him in the face, and damn it if he didn’t tilt his head every time I moved so I never caught his eye. “You don’t think this place is a little public for private business?” I said.

“What if I told everyone to get out?” he says, like it would be the normalest thing in the world.

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