Part 3 of 9 - The Lady

Besides me and Fedora, the only souls in the joint are the barkeep and the fat guy at the end of the bar, who's gotta be the owner. Fedora makes straight for him. I still can't see his face through the dark room, but I can still smell that awful cigar.  I don't understand why men think they're so great.  Makes their breath stink, clothes stink, and sometimes I think it makes their personality stink, too.  Cigarettes, on the other hand...