“I don’t understand,” said Beer Gut.

“You spilled my drink.” McCosser was red faced now. Wild. Out of control.

“I’m sorry. Here, take a tenner.”

McCosser considered for a moment, then took the money and walked away without another utterance. The sports bar was uncharacteristically full with tradesmen and office people, mostly male with only a sprinkling of females.

“What happened?” said Sam who hadn’t moved.

“Nothing special. Want another beer?”

“Yeah, why not?”

McCosser bought another round and finished his hamburger and chips. He continued his chat with Sam about the job but was still annoyed by the near altercation. He returned to work, feeling sour. Sam didn’t seem to notice or, if he did,...

Please subscribe to keep reading.