Crazy Heart

His drink wavers in his hand, rattling the ice. He is in a tiny bar just outside Tuscon, a square stucco building that stinks of piss and disinfectant. »Would you like to contribute to my next dance? » a woman in a transparent negligee asks. He shakes his head.

»You want to see, you want to pay, » she says.

»Darlin’, the only thing I want to see is the bottom of this glass, and the bottom of the next one, too. »

»Fuck You »

»Better not, darlin’, I’m a dead man. »