Chapter Two

"So what about you? You in a relationship?" Steve asked the next night.

"Me? No. Men are sometimes more hard work than they are worth," Wanda replied pouring the same brand of whiskey that she had poured the previous night.

"Your problem is that you date guys who like to think they are superior to everyone because they eat vegan food and can afford to live in fancy apartments despite not having a job. I blame that hipster musical – the one where they all have AIDs,' the man two stools down from Steve said. He was a slightly portly man, at least in his late fifties or early sixties, and had his very grubby hands surrounding what looked to be an amber ale.

"You offering anything Earl?" Wanda jokingly asked. "Not sure how Babs would feel."

"She'd rip your right arm off Darlin'."

Wanda gave a small chuckle and returned her attention to Steve, "I think Earl might have a point. My last date was so up himself about his 'art' that he was not even worth dealing with. Since when were home movies art?"

"Since they started airing America's Funniest Home Videos?"

"I would not call that art. I call that appealing the lowest common denominator."

"I wouldn't stoop that low. I mean there is always that guy who tried to run for President but no one took him seriously because everything he said was completely stupid."

"True. I mean who would truly vote for that guy when the person beside him had more dignity in her little finger? Though returning to that date, he also thought that paying rent was 'selling out'.

"Right?"

"I know. It boggles my mind as well."

"Boggles sounds really funny with your accent."

"Thanks."

"So, how is your paper coming along?"

"I haven't even finished the book yet. I should do it quickly. The paper is due next Friday."

"How far you got to go?"

"About a hundred or so pages."

"I miss reading. Being in the middle of a war zone, reading doesn't really come into a daily routine. I haven't read a book in two years, and I can't even remember what the last book I read was."

"I get it. Mind you can you even speak Serbian?"

"Malo." Wanda smiled. "Not fluent but I've picked up a few phrases here and there. Reading is another matter. Though usually the good sign that somewhere is a hospital is with the red cross."

"That is usually a good sign. I was going to suggest trying some Serbian classics."

"How did you learn English?"

"School. They offered second languages from an early age. I tried German but it's too complicated."

"German wasn't too hard. Neither was French."

"College boy?"

"Arts School. Had to drop out though when my mother got sick."

"Was your father not around?"

"He died before I was born. He was in the army too."

"And his father, and his father before him?"

"Yep. Well, Irish Army but still the military."

"My family were carpenters for many decades before the war broke out. One day a grenade was thrown into the middle of the store and then… I never saw my father again."

"What about your mom?"

"She's still alive the last I heard."

"So why did you go and they stay?"

"Pietro was scared that the first person in the family that they would go after was the girl. There had been rumours about what they did to girls and I think the last thing my mother wanted was for it to happen to me. We scrambled some money together and got me on the first flight to anywhere. Somehow, I got on the plane to New York. That was about two years ago now. Got my Green Card so for the time being, I am stuck here."

"You say that like it's a bad thing to be in this glorious country," Earl commented as he slid his beer glass towards Wanda.

Taking the hint, Wanda started pouring the amber liquid from the tap in front of her, "Add it to your tab Earl?"

"Whatever pleases you." And with that Earl gave a five-dollar bill. "That's for you, not the drink."

"Thanks." Wanda took the bill and put it in the tip jar.

Steve looked at the jar inquisitively and asked, "Does anyone else work here, or is it just you?"

"Apart from Burt who runs this place, there is only the two of us. One does day while I do night. Not enough people need serving to need more than one on the night. Tips get split at the end of the week. It's not bad. On average it's about fifty dollars a week."

"These guys must be good tippers."

"Well, it's the best they can do given the circumstances." Steve dug into his pocket and gave Wanda a fifty-dollar bill. "I can't take this Steve."

"It's better off with you than it is me. I'm leaving in two days."

"But still…"

"No buts. Just take it." Wanda nodded and put the bill in the tip jar. "This is not a charity thing, but you need money more than I do."

"I'm not that broke you know."

"But you don't earn enough."

"How do you know what I earn? I could be rolling in diamonds."

"You're right. I'm just assuming."

"Assume makes an ass out of you."

"And me?"

"No, just you." Wanda smiled softly. Steve felt his heart skip a beat. "You want another drink?"

"Sure."