Salvatore Grossman, or “Sal” as he preferred, wiped away at the greasy bar, the moist rag he used wiping up sticky stains and crumbs of food. He hummed to himself as a light jazz tune played on the overhead speakers. He looked around his establishment absently as he stepped back from the bar and dropped the dirty rag into the nearby sink with a plop.

The bar was currently empty, aside from himself of course. Any other time this would disatisfy him, not having any customers present. However, since he was expecting someone special, he didn’t mind at all, this once anyway. He glanced at the clock on the far wall, one thirty-two it said. His friend said that he would be in sometime today for a visit, so Sal expected him anytime from noon to four to show up. ”And I’ll come calling in the high of tonight,” Sal sang as as he placed a bottle and two shot glasses on the splinter-ridden bar ,”and when I sing my song dear Mella, don’t you weep tonight...”

The sun was high in the sky, just past noon, as the black sedan pulled up in front of a non-descript bar. The streets were just as he expected. It was nothing great, nothing like what was aspired to. It was the kind of street that evoked the nervous glances his Uber driver was offering. You would sooner be mugged walking down these streets unprotected.

It was the perfect place for Jackie. He grinned widely as he saw the bar, opening the door. "Thanks for the ride, mate." He slipped a ten up front, placing it in the cup holder as he moved to get out of the car. It was a generous tip, but then...well, he was in a generous mood. "Have a good one." He stood up, straightening out his black zip up sweatshirt as best he could. He took the sunglasses off to admire the bar properly, gazing up at the dimly lit 'open' sign in the window.

He placed the glasses on the top of his head, striding over to the front door. He opened the door, the musky smell of the bar hitting him almost simultaneously with the tunes coming from the barkeep, a man he was well acquainted with. "Shit, Sal. No wonder the bar's empty. You're supposed to be attracting customers, not scaring them away with that voice of yours," he called out with the usual jibes he would give his buddy back when they were younger.

Sal raised his gaze to the man who just entered his bar, his old friend Jackie Renolds, the wide grin spreading across his face uncontrollable. He snickered lightly at Jackie’s remark ,”Hey screw you Jackie, I did two years of music back in high school. The teacher said I had a wonderful tinner voice.”
As he spoke he uncorked the bottle of whiskey on the bar and gave it two quick tilts, filling up both shot glasses.

“It’s good to see you Jackie. Come on, man, let’s have a celebratory drink. I’d offer to get piss drunk with you but it’s still a little early, plus I have a business to run.” Sal stepped around the bar, leaving the bottle and two shots behind, “Damn, come ere’ amico, give your fat Italian friend a hug. I ain’t seen you in years.” He briskly walked to Jackie, arms extended in a friendly embrace.

Jackie grinned a bit. "It's good to see you, man," he said, lifting his arm in return. He hugged him tightly before letting him go and patting him on the shoulder. "Now, how about that drink? I'll be around for a while, so we'll have a chance to get piss drunk some other time. Much rather catch up after just getting in."