They arrived at the bar around 3:00 PM. Sitting down at the counter, Larson ordered tow beers.
James sighed.
"What is it?" Larson asked.
"Nothing," James nodded a thanks to the bartender.
"It can't be nothing," Larson took a gulp from his beer. "Come on. Tell me what's bothering you."
"Women trouble?"
James looked up and saw the bartender staring at him.
"Excuse me?" he said.
"That's what most guys come in here to drink for." The bartender picked up a glass and started cleaning it with a rag.
"Well sorta," James took a swig. "The person I love doesn't know I love them." He glanced at Larson. Looking back, he said, "and I don't think they like me anyway."
Larson coughed. "Who is it?"
James ignored him and kept talking to the bartender, whom he found out was named Jerry from his nametag. "Jerry, what is the advice you'd give to a guy like me in a situation like so many others?"
"Well," Jerry rested one arm on the bar and leaned on it. "Most of the time I say to go and tell them. Pucker up some courage and tell them the truth, the worst you can get is rejection. But in your case," Jerry glanced over at Larson before leaning in and whispering in James' ear, "you like that young man over there don't you?"
"How-" James stared in awe.
Jerry waved him silent. "When you've been dealing with people for as long as I have, you pick up on the little things that people do. Those tell you."
James sighed, "Is it that obvious?"
"No, no." Jerry straightened up. "I just know because of what I know about people, that's all." Jerry stroked his white mustache. "I think in your case you could lose a lot more than a potential lover."
James slumped. He glanced over at Larson again. "You think I at least have a chance?"
"I could never say," he winked. "That's for you."
"Thanks, Jerry."
"Anytime, son." Then Jerry walked away to gather more orders.
Larson leaned his face close to James'. "Have fun talking to the bartender?"
"Yeah. He's very wise. I think people with problems would get better quicker if they talked with bartenders instead of psychiatrists."
Larson laughed. "I guess so." He finished off his beer. "Want another one?" He said, pointing to the half empty glass that James clutched in his hand.
"Sure," he said and lifted the glass to his lips, swallowing the rest down in three large gulps. He waved at Jerry for two more.
"You kids need to take it easy," Jerry said, bring over two glasses brimming with their drinks. "I've seen too many nice kids like you die because of too much alcohol."
James' eyes widened in horror. "How many is two many?"
Jerry smiled the typical grandpa smile. "One." Then someone across the bar waved him over, and he left them the beers.
"He really is nice," Larson stared after the old man.
"He really is." James looked into his glass, gazing at the beer as is swirled in lazy circles. Jerry's words echoed in his head, 'Pucker up some courage and tell them the truth, the worst you can get is rejection.' James stole a glance at Larson, who was now nursing his beer slowly, looking at a table filled with gaudy girls in gaudy make-up. James sighed. Maybe I do need to just tell him. He took a deep breath and, lifting the mug to his lips, swallowed it all down without pausing for a breath.
"Whoa, whoa!" Larson grabs the empty glass from James. "Slow down. You're gonna hurt yourself."
James gasped for air as soon as the glass was removed from his lips. He didn't say anything, just reached over and grabbed Larson's half-filled mug and drank that one down too.
"James, James!" Larson grabbed that glass out of his hands too. Capturing his wrists, Larson turned James to face him. He looked into James eyes that were already starting to show the effects of the beer. "James," he whispered. "Hey, dude, you don't look good."
James smiled sleepily up at Larson.
"James I'm taking you ho-" he swallowed the rest of his words because in that second, James had stretched out and pushed his lips against Larson's, his already droopy eyes closing.