“Are these your friends?” she asked. “Oh, wow!” which was slow and surprised. “Oh, wow, these are the friends you were telling me about …?”

Hawk, hair all down his forehead and leading with his bottle, grabbed the nigger’s shoulder and swayed, grinning at the wop: “Am I your fuckin’ friend? This is your old lady, huh? Well, I wanna be your fuckin’ friend too!”

“Oh, wow,” the blonde repeated. She looked very mysterious; or very stoned.

At the bar, the bartender slid three bottles across to Hogg, who came back with them; he gave one to Denny. “Here you go, boy. Why don’t you go stand by the wall where you can lean on something.” Hogg handed a bottle down to me.

It was Coca-Cola.

I held the cold glass and watched Hogg put the neck of the third bottle in his mouth, up-end it, then lift it from his lips so that you could see the beer waterfall. Some foamed over his cheek and dribbled down his jaw (the foam dying); but he kept swallowing; then he dropped the neck, closed his mouth around it, and swung the bottle down. Beer spurted as he took the neck out his mouth, and ran down his hand. But he grinned and wiped his face on his forearm.

I drank some Coca-Cola.

“Get on over there,” Hogg told Denny. “’Cause somebody’s gonna knock into you and you gonna pus up all over your pants.”

“Yeah,” Denny said. “Yeah, it’s all right.”

With his bottle down against his groin (maybe the cold glass made it feel better) Denny turned, unsteadily, and walked—unsteadily—away.

Hogg took another swallow, then put his hand on my shoulder. “Go over and watch out for him, cocksucker. Don’t let him hurt himself again. Too much. You know?”

I followed Denny down the bar around carousing bikers. Ape had gotten two more beers and was looking around for somebody to give one to. Denny stopped by the bright jukebox and wedged himself beside it and the wall. The colored lights rioting in the plastic panels reflected in the sweating bottle he still held against his groin. Every once in awhile he lifted his right foot up, as though it was still hard to stand full on it. I stood next to him, but he didn’t look at me.

So I drank some more Coke.

Finally I squatted, leaned my back on the wall, and looked over at Denny’s bottle. He hadn’t drunk any beer.