“Give me back my money. I know you took it.”
“You crazy bitch. Why would I want to take your money?”
“My wallet was sitting right here before I went to the restroom. When I came back, it was gone. You have been sitting there the whole time.”
“Your drunk. Go home.”
Gina Carlson pulls out of her purse a Sauer P365 and sits in on the bar. Her hand remains on it. “I said give me my money.”
From behind the bar, Brad Wallace hurries over and puts his hand on top of Gina’s. “What’s going on?”
“This son of a bitch stole the cash I left here on the bar before going to the restroom. When I came back, it was gone.”
“The old bitch is crazy. She is drunk and can’t keep track of her stuff.”
Brad examines the stranger’s micro express, while keeping his hand on top of Gina’s. “Mister, if I take my hand off of Gina’s, she will definitely shoot you. She has killed men for less. I would advise you to give you money back before I lift my hand off of Gina’s gun.”
The stranger quickly reached in his back pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. “I thought they were mine. I thought this old bitty was paying me to take me to bed her.”
“Brad, take your hand off if mime. I want to kill this bastard.”
“Now, Gina. Calm down. I don’t want to shut the bar down and have to clean up the mess after the police report.”
Brad turns to the stranger. “You have until the count of three to leave the money and get out of here. I don’t want to ever see you in here again.”
“But, but…”
“One, two.”
“I’m gone.” The stranger ran out the door of the bar. He left his cigarettes and unfinished drink.
“Gina, you shouldn’t be carrying that gun in your purse.”
“I didn’t intend on using it. You have to admit just by showing it. It goes a long way in persuading guys to behave.”
