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The place, which had been a popular dive before my time, was as seedy as I remembered it Mismatched wooden tables and chairs were scattered around the horseshoe-shaped bar I perched on the cracked upholstery of a teetering stool and waved to the barkeep The man aimed his dark button-like eyes, surrounded by wrinkles from too much sun, my way and approached with the speed of a sedated sloth

“Does Dell still live upstairs?” I asked

“No one lives upstairs” He grabbed a rag and wiped an invisible spot on the counter

I pasted on a smile “Any idea where Dell lives now?”

“You buying a drink or what?”

“Sure,” I said “You got root beer?”

The bartender pulled a sour expression “No”

“Any kind of cola then Not too much ice”

The man shuffled off to fill my order By the time he returned with my drink, I had laid a 20 bill on the counter in front of me

“You can keep the change, if I find the service up to par” I smiled wider

The bartender looked me over “This your idea of a bribe?”

“No, but this is” I added another twenty and dangled a third over it

He nodded, hu what sounded like an assent

“Suppose you could dig up an address for Dell?” I asked

The old man rubbed his chin “I suppose”