“Wild Zero,” the bartender said as she set our drinks down on the table. “The name of the movie that you’re talking about is Wild Zero.” Sunset whirled in his chair, an index finger raised in vague admonishment. “The band of zombie killing motorcyclists in the movie, they’re called Guitar Wolf. They’re a Japanese power trio kinda sound like Joan Jett and Ty Seagall thrown into a blender.” I admired her nonchalance. Sunset winced uncomfortably as he considered this new information. “You’re right,” he said, as the bartender cleared the empty glasses from the table. “Buster,” she said to me before she turned to leave, “can I see you over at the bar for minute?” I paused briefly, surprised by the invitation. “You bet,” I said, shooting a glance at Tina who was a great believer in the power of random encounters. She shrugged and shooed me away from the table. I sat at the bar and took in the backlit grandeur of their collection of spirits and liqueurs. “What kind of self-respecting bar carries Sour Puss?” I inquired, gesturing toward the three dust caked bottles of liquid luridity on the lowest shelf. The bartender wiped down the bar in front of me and put a coaster under my drink, and said, “we’re a Vape bar that sells boutique DIY vegan burgers, and for reasons that I refuse to explain or even think very much about, we also have a side-hustle in second-hand fedoras.” As if that explained anything at all. | image @jaimeruiz___