Safety in Numbers

"I need a bottle of sparkling water--Acque di Scolatura, if you have it."

"We appear to be sold out, sir."

My favorite part of a higher-class establishment like Byrne's is the way the staff would always call me sir, despite the fact that I have done nothing in my life that deserved such respect. "Do you carry Fogna?"

"We do, sir."

I said, "Then I'll have a bottle of that and a top-shelf scotch, no ice."

Sean McCoy leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I feel I should remind you that the financial burden of this round falls upon you."

I said to the bartender, "I'll have a club soda and well scotch."

That settled, Sean returned his attention to the rest of the bar and remarked, "Perhaps my observational skills are not up to par, but the capacity of this room seem a bit more dense than usual."

I sipped my drink, which always tasted better when it was his round, and noted, "It is kind of crowded today."

"The potential implication of this gathering intrigues me."

"There's no gathering," I told him. "This looks like a spontaneous outbreak of the bridge-and-tunnel people."

"Yet Byrnes does service a semi-regular commuter clientele."

"Those are Port Authority people," I reminded him. "This is a Grand Central crowd, and Grand Central is five long blocks away."

"Intriguing."

"You already used that word."

"Fascinating?"

I shrugged. "That's a bit pedestrian for your extensive vocabular palate, n'est pas?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I shall ponder a more appropriate synonym."

After downing my semi-rancid scotch, I announced, "While you do that, I'm going to investigate."

"Pause," he ordered.

"Why am I pausing?"

"Direct your gaze to a gentleman who had, moments ago, entered."

Squinting at the door, I said, "I can't past the woman in the red, off-the-shoulder sweater and the hypnotic torso."

"Naturally," he sighed. "The torso you've indicated appears to be accompanying the gentleman I'd earlier mentioned."

"Now that you mention, I think there is a guy standing there."

"He is a friend of mine."

"Now he's my friend too," I informed him. "Does he have a name?"

"Dick."

"We're going to have to work on that." I asked, "What are the odds you're going to go talk to him and find out if they're together together."

"And if she is not?"

"Then you can find out if she might be interested in getting together with a guy like me."

"And if she is not?"

"Then you can find out if she's into robots."

He growled. "Why is it that so many compare me to artificial life forms?"

"Because you're a goddamned robot," I replied.

"You could always conduct said interrogation yourself," he said.

"I don't want to embarrass myself."

He frowned. "That potentiality has never impeded you before."

"Pretty please," I whined.

He rolled his eyes. "I cannot fathom why I endure your company."

I flashed him a smirk and patted his cheek. "Because I have the best shenanigans."

Groaning, he shuffled off.

"Another?" asked the bartender.

"Absolutely," I replied. "It's his round, so let's try the top shelf again."

When Sean returned a moment later, glassy-eyed, I instructed him to pay the tab, and he filled me in on his conversation.

"Are you sure she didn't say Lebanese?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Nobody's perfect," I mumbled. "What the hell--why don't you introduce me anyway?"

Sean blinked. "She inquired into whether or not I was a 'Chinaman.'"

I blinked back. "What?"

"I explained that my lineage is Japanese diaspora, but the very concept of separate Asian nationality eludes her." He concentrated really hard on this. "Yet I sensed no malice."

"Now I have to meet her." I made a beeline for the couple before Sean could stop me.

"Hi," I said, "I'm Max."

"Dick," replied the slightly stunned man.

"Can I call you Richard for short?" I asked. "My brother-in-law is named Dick."

"Indeed," said Sean, who appeared out of nowhere. "His brother-in-law was responsible for rearranging the topography of his face."

"To be fair," I added, "we were young."

The woman studied my crooked nose. "You dueled with him?"

"Truth is," I replied, "he dueled, and I fell to the ground, screaming and holding my face."

"Yet you appear to show the scar with pride."

I shrugged. "Souvenir."

"Like a 'T-shirt'?"

"Exactly like a T-shirt," I said. "I never caught your name."

"Jacyln," She extended her hand, far too delicately for someone with her biceps and shoulders.

I kissed it, because it seemed, for some reason, like the right thing to do. "My pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine."

"So," I asked, "What is it you do for a living?"

"Piracy."

"Software? DVDs?" I replied before it occurred to me that a normal person wouldn't even dream of admitting that to a stranger.

"I find you confusing," she told me.

"And I find you confusing," I told her.

"Then that, at least, is something we have in common."

I smirked. "Lebanese or not, I think I'd like to buy you a drink." I added, "A cheap drink."