It was 9 p.m. on a frosty March night. Adam sat in his cold car trying to figure out how to paw his way back up the slippery slope that had become his life. What would his parents say? His friends? What the hell am I going to do? he thought, panicked.
He needed a drink. He got out of his car wearing only his suit jacket and scampered to Café Jazz, a block from his office.
“Hey, Eddie,” Adam said to the bartender whose divorce Adam had handled.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Long day of depositions,” Adam lied. “You remember those?” Adam smiled.
“Are you meeting someone here?”
“No…I haven’t had too much luck with women lately.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, Adam?”
“Will be as soon as you start pouring.”
“A double Grey Goose and soda should perk you up a bit. And there are a lot of ladies here tonight! See anyone you like?”
“I haven’t really looked,” Adam said dejectedly, playing with a book of matches left on the bar.
“That book of matches contain the Bible or something?”
“How did these end up here?” Adam inquired.
“I don’t know. Someone left them.”
“Did you see who?”
“Why?”
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