When the most annoying patron arrives by the bar counter, I run for the big kot’oll guy, inviting myself into his arms, all four of those. We may not have been mates, but maybe we can be that for an evening, just long enough until the annoyance is gone.
And boy does he take me under his arms and then some. It doesn’t take long before the evening stretches into days and weeks. Where do I draw the line again? What’s real and what’s not?