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shakes Billy’s hand, mostly just because it’s customary. He starts doing the numbers in his head again, trying to figure out what the average person’s check would be on a two-drink minimum and then adding that to the cover charge at the door. When his temples start to hurt, he just smiles and opens the office door. The music from the bar pours into the room.
    â€œWe’ll have you back next year,” Billy says to him, although he’s probably lying.
    â€œMaybe then you’ll have a Friday late show,” Spence says.
    â€œThe hypnotist sold out both shows.”
    â€œBut that’s not really stand-up comedy.”
    â€œTell me again all that stuff about Transformers .” Billy grins.
    Checkmate.
    â€œLater,” Spence says and starts to leave.
    â€œDon’t forget to pay for the food,” Billy says as he finally finds his smokes and pulls one out of the soft pack. Lighting up, the fat, old cowboy turns around in his noisy chair and goes back to watching ESPN.
    Spence leaves Billy’s office and steps back out into the club. On his way out the door, he drops ten bucks on the bar. The bartender who hates his guts is standing there and, from the look on his face, the hatred hasn’t passed.
    â€œFor my burger,” he says to the bartender. “Tell Mandy I say hello.”
    â€œWho?” the bartender asks as he scoops the bills up and counts them out, frowning the entire time.
    â€œThat girl from last night. The one who drives the black Jeep.”
    â€œCindy,” the bartender says and looks at him from under his thick eyebrows.
    Cindy, Spence thinks. I knew it was something with an “e” sound at the end.
    â€œYeah, her. The one with the tattoo right there,” he says and points at his crotch. “She was something else. Really. Something. Else.”
    He doesn’t stay to see the bartender’s reaction. He’s pretty sure it’s just a meaner version of the same scowl the guy has had for the past two days anyway. The satisfaction of knowing that the kid will be miserable for the rest of the night is almost worth the price of the cheeseburger. Almost.
    Spence steps out in the parking lot and looks around at the collection of trucks and cars that are much nicer than his. It’s quiet outside, and the silence makes the entire night seem a little anticlimactic. An hour ago he was a celebrity. Now he’s just the hired help quietly shuffling away for the night, just like the guy who washes the dishes in the kitchen. He’s back at the hotel before he realizes that he left without having that free drink Billy offered.
    Â 
    The sun is bright and it looks like the middle of summer, despite the fact that it’s February and still freezing out. From his window, Spence can’t even see the snow plowed up around the corner of the hotel. He could’ve slept all night and thought he’d woken up in May had he just looked out the window when he got up at noon.
    He likes to drive on sunny days like this. Just the right music on his radio and plenty of sunshine can make even a ten-hour drive that much easier. The one good thing about shows out in the middle of the country is that he rarely has to deal with the traffic and congestion that always hits him when he works in any of the major cities. Driving straight east for two days isn’t so bad when there’s a nearly empty highway the entire trip.
    His cell phone rings and it’s Rodney. He puts his imitation Wayfarers on and tosses his duffel bag in the backseat of his Camry as he answers.
    â€œGimme the good news,” Spence says without saying hello.
    â€œAsshole,” Rodney says.
    â€œI take it Leno’s people didn’t call?”
    â€œThe Electric Pony doesn’t want you back,” Rodney says.
    â€œAlready?” Spence asks. “It’s only been a day. Not even twelve hours. Hell, it usually takes them at least a week before