Rudy plunks two Jack and Cokes in front of me and whistles through his teeth, which are stained from nicotine.  Before I can grab the drinks and run, he pushes his mouth to my ear. "God, I love the way you look in those pants.  Although I'd like to see how you look without them."    There is a twang in his voice from somewhere south.  He's short, skinny, and at least ten years younger than he looks. I pull away from him and load the cocktails onto a tray in silence, as I resigned long ago to ignore the comments … Continue reading →