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watched with jealous rage as Amber lap danced on another man, less than ten feet away. He noted with some pride, though, that she did the face-to-face thing for only a few seconds. If he had plenty of cash, he would happily stuff it in her G-string and get lap danced on all night long.
    Cash, though, was quickly becoming an issue. During another pause between songs and strippers, Calvin, the unemployed, admitted, “I’m not sure how long I can last here. This is some pretty expensive beer.”
    Their beer, in eight-ounce glasses, was almost gone, and they had studied the waitresses enough to know that empties didn’t sitlong on the tables. The customers were expected to drink heavily, tip generously, and throw money at the girls for personal dances. The Memphis skin trade was very profitable.
    “I got some cash,” Aggie said.
    “I got credit cards,” Roger said. “Order another round while I take a pee.” He stood and for the first time seemed to teeter somewhat, then he disappeared in the smoke and crowd. Calvin flagged down Amber and ordered another round. She smiled and winked her approval. What he wanted much worse than the river water they were drinking was more physical contact with his girl, but it wasn’t to be. At that moment, he vowed to redouble his efforts to find a job, save his money, and become a regular at the Desperado. For the first time in his young life, Calvin had a goal.
    Aggie was staring at the floor, under Roger’s empty seat. “The dumbass dropped his wallet again,” he said, and picked up a battered canvas billfold.
    “You think he’s got any credit cards?” Aggie asked.
    “No.”
    “Let’s take a look.” He glanced around to make sure there was no sign of Roger, then opened his wallet. There was an expired discount card from a grocery store, then a collection of business cards—two from lawyers, two from bail bondsmen, one from a rehab clinic, and one from a parole officer. Folded neatly and partially hidden was a $20 bill. “What a surprise,” Aggie said. “No credit cards, no driver’s license.”
    “And he almost got shot over that,” Calvin said.
    “He’s an idiot, okay?” Aggie closed the wallet and placed it on Roger’s chair.
    The beer arrived as Roger returned and found his wallet. They scraped together $45 and managed a $3 tip. “Can we put a lap dance on a credit card?” Roger yelled at Amber.
    “Nope, just cash,” she yelled back as she left them.
    “What kinda credit card you got?” Aggie asked.
    “Bunch of ’em,” he said like a big shot.
    Calvin, his lap still on fire, watched his beloved Amber weave through the crowd. Aggie watched the girls too, but he was also watching the time. He had no idea how long it took to give a pint of blood. Midnight was approaching. And though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but think about his girlfriend and the tantrum she would throw if she somehow heard about this little detour.
    Roger was fading fast. His eyelids were drooping and his head was nodding. “Drink up,” he said, thick tongued, as he tried to rally, but his lights were dimming. Between songs, Calvin chatted with two guys at another table and in the course of a quick conversation learned that the legendary stripper, Tiffany, didn’t work on Thursday nights.
    When the beer was gone, Aggie announced, “I’m leavin’. You boys comin’ with me?”
    Roger couldn’t stand alone, so they half dragged him away from the table. As they headed to the door, Amber glided by and said to Calvin, “Are you leaving me?”
    He nodded because he couldn’t speak.
    “Please come back later,” she cooed. “I think you’re cute.”
    One of the bouncers grabbed Roger and helped get him outside. “What time ya’ll close?” Calvin asked.
    “Three a.m.,” the bouncer said and pointed to Roger. “But don’t bring him back.”
    “Say, where’s the hospital?” Aggie asked.
    “Which one?”
    Aggie looked at Calvin and Calvin looked at Aggie, and it was