I leaned against the bar with my right elbow supporting me. Normally, that would have rendered a right-handed person helpless in a gunfight. The drunk...glanced at me and turned back to the bartender."But listen, Mister. If I keep serving you whiskey, you are liable to become a victim of that road agent between here and Paddock (a town a few miles south of there)." That is my problem, not yours, dammit. Now, give me that whiskey like I want." With that, he started to cock his revolver.That was. In Pensacola and settled in to an unspoken arrangement with MaryAnn. She could do what she wanted and I would too. The only rule was she had to be discrete. I did not want to find out who she was fucking and I wouldn’t tell her who I was. It wasn’t a modern “open marriage.” It was more like the military in the 90’s—”Don’t ask, and don’t tell.”In early 1976 MaryAnn’s mother moved in with us. I never got along with her, but I maintained a wary truce with old slutty bitch. She really had no choice. More

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