They were playing poker in the back room of the Clearwater Country Club bar, the last survivors of the member-guest tournament that had ended earlier that day. They sat at the poker table, dressed still in their colorful golfing shirts and pants, an assortment of half-filled drinks scattered among their piles of chips, laughing and swirling cards in the otherwise empty clubhouse. Behind them the bartender's tip jar would soon have to be replaced with an empty one. And twice already the waitress had gone to her purse to deposit a stack of the crisp bills that seemed to come from a burgeoning and inexhaustible source. For these were cash men, with long leather wallets designed for the inside of a suit jacket, and they couldn't be bothered with the smaller denominations.
- From The Millionaires by Inman Majors
No comments:
Post a Comment