Caleb leans back in his chair and fingers the neck of his beer, threading me with his hook. I’ve met magnets with less pull. He smiles at me with dentist perfect teeth and says, ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ which means I’ll want to, ‘but you strike me as the kind of guy who always gets the bill.’ Sure, I say, I get charged a lot but I rarely have to pay. Fisherman eyes, he slides a fifty at me over the table and points towards the bar. Somehow, under his patronage I feel like I’m the one being used.

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