Randy said, "Yes, I would, too." He waited a few moments and said, "Well…" and waited again.

"One time," the Mutt said, "I thought I'd try stickin' up places, see if I was any good at it? So I went in a it was like a drugstore only it sold all kinda stuff. I went up to the girl behind the counter and said, 'You see this?' and opened my jacket."

"You exposed yourself."

"I showed her the pistol tucked in my pants. She looked at it, then looked up at me and said, 'Yeah?' "

"I said, 'Aw, fuck it,' and left. That girl was too dumb to rob." He paused again, said, "Okay then," got up and walked out.

Randy watched him, fascinated.

CARLO SAW THE BLACK LEATHER jacket sliding into Booth Number One, looked past to the reservations stand where Heidi should be-no Heidi, nobody-and got to the booth as fast as he could make his way through the tables.

"Sir, I'm very sorry but this booth is reserved."

The one in leather, his hair pulled back severely into a ponytail, said, "That's right, garson, I reserved it."

"Sir, I know the party-"

"What's the name?"

"I know them personally, they come here--"

"It's after ten. Don't look like they're gonna show."

"Sir, I'm very sorry, but you must have a reservation. Fortunately I can seat you, if you would come this way."

"No, this works for me," the one in leather said. "Don't worry about it." Now he looked up, his face becoming more pleasant. "And here's the rest of my party."

Carlo turned to see a young lady in an inexpensive raincoat and a priest. A priest? Yes, helping her off with the coat and Carlo was confused; he couldn't see this one in the booth in the company of a priest.

He said, "Father, how are you this evening? I'm afraid we have a misunderstanding about the table."

The priest said, "No, it's fine," handing him the raincoat. "Check this for us, would you, please?" He turned to the table where the young lady in her plain black sweater and skirt was already sliding in.

Carlo said, "Wait, please," wanting to ask, Who are you people?

Now she was seated and he turned again to the priest, who seemed patient, reasonable, and said to him, "Father, I'm very sorry to tell you this booth is reserved for another party," Carlo sounding disappointed.

"I wish with all my heart I could say yes, please, stay here.

But I cannot. I have a table over there-you see it?-and a very nice one closer to the music. You can listen and enjoy as you dine." He heard the one in leather call it "elevator music," and the young lady, looking around, say, "It's cooler than I thought it would be. Fran's fulla shit, it doesn't look like a men's club." The leather one said a friend had told him there were ice cubes in the urinals, and the young lady said "Doesn't that make the drinks taste funny?" Carlo heard the priest say, "You sure you want to stay here?" The leather one answered him, "We're here, okay? And we're fuckin staying here." He said, "She wants to piss off the management." Then looked up to say,

"Garson, you want to get us some drinks?" Carlo thinking, No, get the Mutt. But then heard the young lady say, "I just want to see how Randy handles it," and Carlo began to think their sitting here had a purpose.

He said, "Excuse me, please," and left.

Debbie said to Johnny Pajonny, "How do you know his name's Garson?"

Terry said, "He means garcon."

Carlo came along the back hall past the rest rooms to Heidi from behind, Heidi standing in the doorway to Randy's office. He said to her, "Dear, would you mind going back to work?"

"Would you mind," Heidi said, turning, moving past him, "if I went to the little girls' room once in a while?" This big blonde, confident, able to turn it around because she would sleep with Randy when he wanted her.

Randy was reading a newspaper open on his desk. He looked up at Carlo. "The trial is in recess till next week on account of Tony Amilia's prostate. It says he appears, though, to be in good health"-Randy looked down at the paper again-"and is 'the best dressed of the defendants, always in a business suit and tie. The others on trial often wear jogging suits and sneakers.' Classy old guy with a d6class6 outfit," Randy said, looking up again. "I am no longer gonna worry about those punks. Bunch of losers. What's the problem?"

"People have sat down at Number One and won't get up. I tell them it's reserved, they don't move."

"In what name?"

"Mr. Moraco, for four."

"What time?"

"Ten o'clock."

"Tell Mr. Moraco you had to give up his table because he's late. If he complains, tell him tough shit."

"Can I quote you saying it?"

"Tell him anything you want."

"I think the ones sitting there know you. One is a priest."

"I don't know any priests."

"The other one says the young lady with them wants to piss off the management. But she says oh no. She says, 'I just want to see how Randy handles it.'"

"That doesn't mean anything. What's she look like?"

Carlo shrugged. "Cute, but common. Probably a very nice young lady."

"Then why would I know her?"

"What do I do, please, when Mr. Moraco comes?"

"Let him work it out."

"I mentioned the one is a priest?"

"Carlo, if you can't do your job"

"Yes?"

"Look. If Moraco wants them to move to another table, they'll move to another table. What's the problem?"

Cindy, who worked the first booth and didn't care who sat in it, brought menus and served their drinks, Johnny swigging his beer out of the bottle now as they studied the caricatures of famous native Detroiters, Debbie spotting them, Johnny questioning, Terry biding his time.

"Sonny Bono."

"You sure?"

"Who else looks like that? There's Lily Tomlin, Tom Selleck in the Tigers baseball cap. The girl next to him is… Pam Dawber."

"It's Marlo Thomas. I know she's from Detroit."

"It's still Pam Dawber. Mork Mindy, I never missed it, I wanted to look just like her."

"You didn't come close," Johnny said. "There's-Jesus Christ, is that Ed McMahon? He's from here?"

"I see Diana Ross," Debbie said, "Smokey Robinson… Michael Modarty-I loved him on Law amp; Order. And there's, my God, Wally Cox."

"The one next to him," Terry said, getting into it, "you know who that is? Seymour Cassel."

"Who the fuck's Seymour Cassel?"

"He's good, he was in… something about a Chinese bookie.

Okay, and the one next to him you should know. David Patrick Kelly."

"Never heard of him."

"Pat Kelly, he was three years ahead of us at Bishop Gallagher. He was in that movie with Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy, 48HRS."

"Which one was Kelly?"

"Guy's running down the street, Eddie Murphy opens the car door and knocks him on his ass? That one."

"Look," Debbie said, "sitting at the bar, Bill Bonds."

"The anchorman? That's not his hair," Johnny said.

"Anyone who watches TV knows that."

"I mean that's not the rug he always wears."

Debbie called the maitre d' over and asked him. Carlo looked toward the bar. He said, "Yes, Mr. Bonds and his wife. They come here often."

"He's drinking?"

"Only Perrier."

Right after that Johnny spotted Ted Nugent's picture on the wall.

"I know it's him, 'cause there's a hack in Four East looks just like him."

Debbie said, "Were the hacks at Jackson stupid?"

"You gotta be stupid to be one, don't you?"

"Where I was they'd never get the count right the first time.

Never."

"I know what you mean, you can stand there all day while they do their recounts."

Terry said, "Isn't that Alice Cooper?"

They went right on talking.

"You had women guards, didn't you?"