[The resemblance of any characters to persons living or dead is completely—er…Wait. They’re exactly who you think they are, given that they form the repertory company of any bar, anywhere, anytime.]

Preface by Drunkyard Tippling

The usual crew already there in the late afternoon or early evening—inside the light never changes—the bibulous scribe enters and finds his stool, which always changes—like the painter he needs to see the mess-en-scene from every angle—the bar keep, always alert to the arrival of a regular, is already pouring “The Usual.”

We enter en media res—