“So you’re not sore about the incident?” Harry followed this with a cough for emphasis. It ended up sounding entirely inappropriate.
“No, no, don’t worry!” Jorge was banging the shot glass that had replaced his Tom Collins on the bar and eyeing the bartender murderously.
“Shot of Tequila for me ang, maybeee…a shot of bourbon for my friend!” The bartender scurried away.“No, no…Jorge never holds a grudge…very long…” he added the “very long” bit with disturbing nonchalance, “I hab always said, ‘A mang gotta doo whata mang gotta do’ righ?” Harry nodded as he was jabbed vigorously in the ribs by Jorge.
“You know I always admire a mang who is willing to do what he gotta do, you know? It took some cojones to do what you did. I like a mang with cojones!” Jorge chose this moment to slap Harry squarely on the back.His timing was not ideal as Harry had decided just then to down his shot of bourbon. Violent, coughing ensued, bourbon sprayed onto the bar.