Steve the barkeep shouts LAST CALL, and everybody laughs.
This is a cop bar. Who’s gonna tell Steve that he’s in violation for serving after… what is it now? Two? Three?
Shit, who cares, right?
City doesn’t need us anymore. There’s no more drug problem, no more gangs, no more littering and loitering.
Cameras, drones, robots, and that weird shit they play on tv and computers and phones that makes people good.
The union contracts, though, those keep us oldtimers going. So, we drink. We hold retirement parties. We hold wakes.
Robots play the bagpipes now.
Amazing Grace, my ass.