1. The Meeting
It was a small, quiet bar. I wasn't the only female there, but I was the only lone female. I sat on the left-hand side of the bar. The bartender made sure nobody bothered me.
At around 11:00, a man came in. Seeing me, he walked over.
"Mind if I sit next to you?"
"Sure. It'za free country."
"What your you drinking?"
"Whiskey sourz. It'z my favorite drink."
"Two whiskey sours, please," he said to the bartender.
And then, he noticed my bare feet. "Uncomfortable shoes?"
"I took 'em off, earlier. Now, I can't seem to quite reach 'em!"
"I'll put them back on, if you'd like."
"You're a gentleman! But no thanks. I prefer 'em off."
"All right. Oh, My name is William Andrews."
"Pleased t'meet you. I'm Jenny Mason."
We shook hands. The fresh drinks came. I downed the rest of my old one.
"To your feet!"
I laughed and rubbed his leg with my foot. "Tha's a good one!"
We saluted and drank.
2. Going Home
We had a couple drinks together and talked small talk.
"Would you like to come to my place for a nightcap," he asked.
This made me suspicious. "Iz thiz a pickup?"
"I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."
"Well. . . all right—jus' thiz once!"
I tried to put on my shoes, but had problems! He got off his chair, knelt down at my feet, picked up the shoes, and put them on. "Now, you can go to the ball."
"Thankz, Prince Charming!"
3. The Revelation
His apartment was about two miles from the bar. We went inside.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said. "Take your shoes off, if you'd like!"
I flopped on the couch and kicked my shoes off.
"Will straight whiskey be fine?"
He went to the kitchen and made them. Then he came out. He presented me with the left drink."
"Down the hatch!"
He started to drink his. But noticing I wasn't drinking mine, he stopped.
"I'm not thirsty, right now."
"Oh, come on! The evening's still young. Drink up!"
Suddenly, I "sobered up"-for I was never really drunk to begin with! I pulled a gun out.
"Hey, what's going on, here?"
"Drink down your whiskey."
He drank it down. I then handed him my glass.
"Now, drink mine!"
He looked at the glass. I waved my gun.
"He threw the glass on the floor!
"Now, allow me to properly introduce myself: My name is Barefoot Jenny, and I'm a detective.
"The bodies of two girls were recently found, in this area. Both were poisoned, and both had high blood alcohol levels. One of them was seen in the company of a man, shortly before her disappearance. You, perhaps?"
He sighed and sat heavily on one of the chairs.
"My ex-wife was a heavy drinker. I hoped she would stop drinking, when we got married. And she did—for a little while. But then it got worse. Finally, she left me for a fellow drunk."
I nodded. "So you decided to start a vendetta against heavy drinking women."
"Yeah." He began sobbing. "I'm so sorry!"
"Will you tell me your address, please?"
"This is the Greenmont Apartments, unit 207."
I got my cellphone out and called Lt. Kirschenbaum.
A bottle of poison was found in a cabinet in the kitchen—the some poison that killed the two girls. The poison was also found in my whiskey that he spilled into the carpet. He readily confessed to the murders.
I got $15,000 for my help in the case—pretty good for pretending to be drunk!