“So?” I countered.
“Even Nick would have helped me out there, bro!”
“Nick would have gone home with her and her friend.”
“Point taken.” Jonathan sighed, leaned back in the booth, and tapped his fingers on the table top rhythmically to the beat of whatever song was playing. “Didn’t your mama teach you to be nice to girls?
“I don’t even know who my mama is,” I said as I tipped back my beer.
Jonathan laughed for a moment, and then looked at my face and the laugh died.
“Dude – are you serious?”
“No clue,” I replied. “Never met her. Don’t even have a name.”
“Man, I’m sorry,” he said. “I had no idea, brother.”
“It’s okay.”
The server came back and set his chocolate milk down on the table, and I snickered a bit.
Jonathan loved chocolate milk; he couldn’t get enough of the stuff. He’d move over to booze soon enough, but he always started the night with a big glass of chocolate milk, usually ordered off a restaurant’s kids’ menu.
“So who raised ya?” Jon asked. “Your dad?”
“Nope. Never met him either.”
“So who then?” he pressed a bit. “I mean, if ya don’t mind my asking – I ain’t tryin’ to pry or whatever.”
I sipped, considered, and then downed my beer.
“I was raised in a convent.”
“With a bunch of nuns?” Jonathan laughed loudly. “Are you serious?”
“Why do you ask me that?” I looked over at him as I drained the rest of the beer. “When do I bullshit you?”
“I get ya,” Jon said with a nod. “I just didn’t know.”
He pulled another cigarette out and lit it right there in the bar. I raised an eyebrow.
“If they bitch, you’ll be able to order another beer.”
I shook my head slowly and stared at the top of the table. I inhaled deeply, and wondered if taking up smoking again might help me sleep.
“So what was that like?” Jon asked.
I considered for a moment again and figured what the hell? My shrink was only interested in the war shit and had yet to get around to the “tell me about your childhood” shit. He was far more interested in how I was tortured as a prisoner.
I was still pretty sure the fucker was writing a book.
“Pretty fucked-up,” I answered honestly. “I was the only guy there except for the one priest who came by every Sunday for Mass.”
“Seriously?”
I rolled my eyes at the word.
“Sorry, bro, it’s just habit. So how’d you end up there?”