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| - Everyone knows rooster fighting is illegal and usually breaks up early on Sunday morning. Last week having lost my shirt at the fights, I was topless and hungry wandering around South Phoenix and found The Duce.
The place had everything Companion and I needed. First, being shirtless, there is a clothes store. I purchased matching vintage gray sweatshirt from my Alma Mater, "Tech". Second, alcohol. Waiting patiently until the clock struck "10" and the bar opened, I ordered two spicy Bloody Marys, which did not disappoint.
What DID disappoint was the celery stick which was the size of a Louisville Slugger. I should know, because it felt like a baseball bat when Companion whacked me across the head with hers because I said she DID look fat in the sweatshirt.
Finally, nourishment. The egg/bacon/cheese sliders were a good choice for reconciliation between Companion and I, especially on the sunny patio. The sun did not shine for long, though, because to make a long story short, her second Bloody Mary ended up forcibly on my new sweatshirt, leaving me alone at The Duce. Not a bad place to be!
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