“You good?”“Not really.” I lit up a cig, not because I needed the nicotine, but because I didn’t really know what else to do.“Is there any...hing you need?” the Jacker asked rather politely.“I need you to put your dick away,” I responded. The Jacker obliged, embarrassed, quickly zipping, buttoning, and buckling. “I can’t believe that just fucking happened.”“That wasn’t bad.”“What do you mean that wasn’t bad?” I was confused as to how anything worse could have happened.“He was just a dick cop. He needed to do something.Gulping the last of his drink, he suggested, “It’s not far, why don’t we stop in and you can see it for yourself?” It was risky, but Sunday night was usually pretty calm.They drove separately. The bouncer at the door called him by name and Fred led Danny to a table. A DJ was playing the music for the dancer on stage.The skimpily-clad waitress, who would probably be performing later, also recognized him. Seeing his musician’s tux and Danny’s semi-formal outfit, she. More

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