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Hi, Lloyd, a little slow tonight isn't it?'
Lloyd said it was. Lloyd asked him what would it be.
'Now I'm really glad you asked me that, really glad. Because I happen to have two twenties and two tens in my wallet and I was afraid they'd be sitting right there until sometime next April. There isn't a 7-Eleven around here, would you believe it? And I thought they had 7-Elevens on the fucking moon.'
Lloyd sympathized.
'So here's what, you set me up an even twenty martinis...One for every month I've been on the wagon and one to grow on. You can do that, can't you? You aren't too busy?
Lloyd said he wasn't busy at all.
'Good man. You line those martinis up right along the bar and I'm going to take them down, one by one. White man's burden, Lloyd my man.'
Lloyd turned to do the job. Jack reached into his pocket for the money clip and came out with an Excedrin bottle instead.
'I seem to be momentarily light,' Jack said. 'How's my credit in this joint, anyhow?'
Lloyd said his credit was fine.
'That's super. I like you, Lloyd. You were always the best of them. Best damned barkeep between Barre and Portland, Maine. Portland, Oregon for that matter.
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