You lay sprawled on the bench of a saloon table, the room filled with chit-chattering, blasphemies and occasional yelling... Fitting for a place like Èlirez. As you knock down a glass of whiskey, a middle aged, bald waiter brings over a refill

"Courtesy of the lady."

He says, gesturing to a barely recognizable woman, wrapped in a tattered poncho. She tilts her hat up to salute you, her eyes covered by the fedora's shade