081413 #worm He waited at the bar through two whiskeys. She was late; thank god some things never change. He sat and smoked. Once invited, the daydreams of her had kept coming back, more adamantly than he could have predicted. It was gratifying, really, to feel so relatively helpless, after all. Could something be waking up in him? Or was he merely horny and tipsy? Surely by now he should be able to tell the difference.