I’m going to give you five seconds to stop staring at me, he said. There’s no reason for it. I ain’t done nothing to you. Best if you just finish your drink and leave, the kid said.

You don’t remember me, the older man said. He brushed back his long black hair. Used to have shorter hair, was heavier too, he told him.

Never met you before. Never seen you.

We had a fight one night. Years ago, out in the parking lot. You got a glass jaw.

You have me confused with someone else, the kid said. He lit a cigarette and placed the pack on the bar. No, I’ve never seen you before.

You were pretty drunk. Mouthed off about how she was yours and some other nonsense.

What do you want?

Nothing. Just letting you know I remember. That’s all. Soon enough, you’ll be dead, I’ll be gone, and it just won’t matter. All this macho bullshit won’t matter.

You’re the one staring, the kid said.

Right. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.

Whatever.

Buy you a drink?

Never turn one down.

The two clanked shot glasses of whiskey and threw them back. The kid ordered the next round. They talked till the bar closed about baseball and women. Then, they went their separate ways.