“Hap, you’re about the least money-oriented sonofabitch I know,” Leonard said.

“That’s because winning all your dimes, I don’t have to worry about money.”

“You don’t worry about money,” Leonard said, “because you’re goodhearted and haven’t got enough brains to worry about it. Hell, you didn’t do what you did for money. That was just an unexpected end result. You don’t need to feel guilty because you took it. You’d have done it had you known the girl was a pauper and that motherfucker was not only going to fight you like a tiger, but was going to win. You’d have gone on ahead anyway.”

“I’ll take all that as a compliment. Except the lack of brains part.”

The blonde with the black roots and the big firm butt was on our side now, the rear of her white shorts pointed in my direction. They were not only short shorts, but they flared dangerously and I could see some of the soft meat up there and a hint of pubic hair. I shifted subtly in my chair for a better look.

“Your turn to buy,” Leonard said to me.

I took a last look at the shorts and what was in them and went over to the bar. Marlie came up, “What’ll it be?”

I sat on the bar stool, said, “Two Miller Drafts, a Sharps.”

“You drink the Sharps, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What for?”

“I like it.”

“It ain’t a diet thing?”

“I like it.”

“It ain’t a diet thing and you drink it?”

“I like it.”

“Why?”

“There’s no alcohol in it.”

“Hell, I thought that was why you drank beer, ’cause there’s alcohol in it.”

“Sharps isn’t beer. Not really.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“Can I just have the Sharps?”

Marlie finally got the beers and the Sharps. She said, “Those two gals, the one with the big ass, she’s making my clit hard.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Them’s the facts,” Marlie said. “Problem is, the blonde, the one with the dirt in her part-”