See the dark bar, the bikini-clad dancer draping a large window, grinding to the clash of drums and guitar. No one else in the bar watches.

See the wild ones toss dollar bills at empty beer bottles, hoping they’ll refill on their own.

See the girl with the flowery dress and awkward fish nets climb up her thighs. Hear this girl ask to borrow your friend, Mister Molly for a moment in the bathroom. She’s standing in line with Mister Molly and kisses him near the lips to pry a suggestion of which he understands.

See them pull the bathroom door closed behind them.

The springs of the couch you’re sitting on dig into your legs, the table beside it, wobbly and unsecured. You sip your drink. You try to avoid fish bubbles of contrived conversation with Fishnet Girl’s friend. They have the same name and you think Valerie squared.

You nod your head. You say a couple of nice things through the corner of your mouth. An old Aerosmith song from their revivalist period plays from the sound system. Your can of beer empties. This Valerie still yakking her jaw. Someone impatiently bangs on the bathroom door. Your friend is still inside and he’s with the other Valerie. You suspect something like love happening in the bathroom…

…gooooooooing doooooooown.

The remnants of your beer and saliva swim in your gut, clashing with acid. Maybe you should drink some water but you opt for another beer, knowing that everything will soon calm.

The bathroom door opens. Your friend’s pupils look sore from being so large and out of shape. His lips, his arms are wrapped around the girl he was in the bathroom with. They sit, still embraced. He breaks the bodily bind, says something to her. She responds with a grimace. She packs her coat, packs her friend Valerie and they go away, leaving your friend with unexplained shrugs. She walks out of the bar with her dress, her sex, her drugs.

You later learn that Mister Molly mentioned to his Valerie of another woman due for arrival any minute. He asked for Val’s number. She said no. The other woman never shows.

Mister Molly knows where Valerie squared will be and he recommends that you go there with him. You do go there…

The ceilings are low. The music is loud; the place is fecund with sweaty bodies writhing to the rhythm of the music. You enjoy another beer with your friend. Neither Valerie is seen. You stop looking until…

“There she is! Behind us!” This is what your drugged friend says and yup it’s her. Mister Molly repeatedly pokes for her attention but she ignores him. One of her other friends, a thin brunette who interests you mentions that it’s this girl’s thirty-ninth birthday. Funny, she didn’t look thirty-nine when Mister Molly was tongue-bathing her mouth in the last bar.

A little while later, you leave drunker than you were before – drunker than you’ve been in a while. You go to a shitty tex-mex joint called San Loco and forget about the thin brunette, letting her slowly sink into the shallows of memory. You want a late night gorge.

There, at a table near the cashier is Valerie squared; except you’re certain that you left one of them at the place with low ceilings.

Valerie squared sit with a pair of chumps. One is wearing a brim hat and he’s making out with your friend’s Valerie, this is the guy who gets to go home with her dress, her fishnets, her kiss, her drugs and she definitely does not look thirty-nine.

Naturally, Mister Molly is disappointed by this terrible discovery at this fast food joint called San Loco so the both of you go home in a cab and call it a night.