Snyder stumbled out of the metro car and onto the high, windy platform. He peered at the San Diego skyline. Heâ€™d grabbed the first high speed monorail headed out of town. Guess itâ€™d gone pretty far out of town.
Mamaâ€™s going to be worried.
Snyder frowned. â€œYouâ€™re looking out for you now, remember?â€
He jumped down the pressurized air shaft, bounced out onto the street level, and stumbled into the Irish pub next door. Snyder walked up to the bar. â€œI want Scotch.â€
The bartender poured Snyder a glass.
Snyder said, â€œSave yourself time, leave me the bottle.â€
The bartender said, â€œNo thanks.â€
â€œI can hold my liquor, and Iâ€™ll pay for the whole bottle with a generous tip included.â€
The bartender waved a wand tag reader over the bottle and Snyderâ€™s right wrist. â€œAnd the tip?â€
â€œJust keep the liquor coming.â€
After two full bottles, whatever problems had led Snyder here drifted away in a haze.
Continued Next Thursday
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