again and came away with more blood.
“Here,” the woman said.
Jake peered at her. She had long dark hair. She was pretty. Oh, she’d stripped earlier, although she wore waitressing clothes now with outrageous high heels. The girl—she couldn’t be more than eighteen—had tossed him the cowboy hat. He still wore it.
“Hold still,” she told him.
He realized she’d been handing him a towel, but he hadn’t taken it. So now, she wiped his nose for him. He hardly felt a thing.
“Did someone hit you?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said, slurring as he spoke.
“You’re totally drunk,” she said.
He just grinned at that.
“You should sit down, maybe drink some water.”
“Beer,” he said. “I need more beer.”
“Look,” she said, glancing around and seeming worried. “Give me a dollar, anything, make it look like I’m working, not just talking to you.”
He dug in his pockets before shaking his head. “I gave all my bills to you.”
“Then give me your hand,” she said.
He did, and she pretended to take something from him. Jake turned around, and he saw the bald, square- shaped man heading toward him. The man stopped and he turned away. Why had he done that?
“He wants to start something with me?” Jake slurred belligerently.
“Don’t let it worry you, cowboy,” the girl said. “He’s just doing his job. He’s making sure—oh, never mind.”
“What about you?” Jake asked. “You’re nice. Why are you working at a place like this?”
Instead of scowling, she looked away, almost in a shy manner. “I don’t have a choice,” she finally said. “My mom and dad…they’re gone.”
“Killed?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, I suppose that’s the word for it.”
“It’s a dirty thing, war,” Jake said. “I’m so sick of it.”
“You’d better watch what you say,” she told him, looking worried again. “Some of our customers belong to Homeland Security. You don’t want to let them hear anything seditious.”
“Seditious?” Jake asked. “Are you kidding me? I’ve bled a hundred times more blood than you just wiped away from my nose. I’ve killed invaders by the dozen. I’ll say exactly what I want to say, and nobody is going to tell me differently because I’m an American.”
“Shh,” she said, touching his forearm. “You’re talking too loudly.”
Jake found he liked her touch. He’d just seen her in the nude. Oh man, she had fantastic tits, great legs and an ass—
“You’re pretty,” he said. “I like you.”
“You seem like a sweet boy,” she said.
“Boy?” he said. “I’m—”
She squeezed his forearm. “You’re a man, I know. I saw how you looked at me.”
He nodded, and he wanted to grab her, kiss her and maybe even do more than that. He’d just seen her naked, hadn’t he? He grinned like an idiot until he recalled the square-shaped man.
“Is he mean to you?” Jake asked.
“What?” she asked.
“Mr. Square?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’d better go. Maybe I’ll talk to you after work.”
She turned away, but Jake decided that she had touched him, why couldn’t he touch her? Fair was fair, right? So he grabbed her and pulled her back.
“You’re hurting me,” she said.
He let go. “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?”
“You can’t touch me. Frank will kick you out of here if you touch me.”
“Mr. Square, you mean?”
“Look,” she said.
Jake slapped his chest, and until this moment, he hadn’t gotten himself into any more trouble than a young man might in such a place. He opened his mouth, and he talked loudly again.
“I killed for our country. I shot and stabbed Chinese invaders so free Americans can speak their mind. I don’t mind saying what I think, do you know that?”
The girl stared at him.
Jake slapped his chest again. He liked her staring at him and he liked talking about something so close to his heart. He had spent time in the detention center because he had what his dad called moral courage. He dared to speak truth to power. America needed more of that. Sure, it was a fight to the death with the invaders, but freedom only came to those willing to pay the heavy cost.
“I’ll speak to who I want to speak to and I’ll say what I think about anything,” he said.
She nodded, with her eyes wide.
“Do you know that the President has made decrees that are against the law?” Jake asked.
She shook her head.
“Oh yeah,” Jake said. “But I figure Sims believes he’s doing right. It’s that other guy.”
“Who’s that?” she asked.
Jake made a face. He was so drunk his features felt numb, as if he moved cardboard. “Max Harold, the Director of Homeland Security, he’s a fascist. He doesn’t like letting Americans say what they want to. You know what…”
“What?” she asked.
“What’s your name?” Jake asked.
“Sheila.”
“Sheila,” Jake said—and suddenly he had to take a piss again. He really needed to go. He’d been drinking beer like a horse for hours upon hours. The need welled up and overpowered him. If he rushed into the restroom, Sheila would go elsewhere. He liked her. She even wanted to meet after work.
His drunken mind spun fast, and it came to him then in totally clarity what would impress a stripper.
“Watch this,” Jake said. He pulled out his wallet, fumbled to open it and fumbled even more to draw out his Militia card. It was like a driver’s license, but had two pictures instead of just one. It had his mug shot, and it showed in the opposite corner Director Max Harold of Homeland Security.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought you said you don’t have any more money.”
“I’m giving you a visual of my feelings,” Jake said. He tossed the ID card onto the floor and zipped down his fly.
“Hey, you can’t do that,” she said.
Jake dug out his shlong and whipped it out. Normally, he couldn’t use a urinal if someone stood beside him using the next one. He needed to piss alone. But the beer poured through his system and his bladder was just plum full. Jake proceeded to urinate onto the Militia ID card, particularly on the director.
It caused a minor outrage in the strip joint. The square-shaped bouncer hurried near. Sheila backed away and looked at Jake in horror, while a large man with red eyes and a redder nose took out a voice recorder. He spoke into it before marching near.
“Hey,” Jake said. “Unhand me.”
The bouncer had a fierce grip, and the man was strong.
“Let me zip up at least,” Jake said.
“Just a moment,” the large man with red eyes said. “You’re a Militiaman?” he asked Jake.
“That’s right. What’s it to you?”
“I heard some of what you’ve been saying. What did you just think you were doing?”
“Pissing on the director,” Jake said proudly.
