The bar, in an alleyway off the main street, had no extra people, because there was nothing else there but a bar. The dark room was filled with smoke from ceiling to floor. Through the bitter — sour fog, it was impossible to see those sitting at the opposite end of the room. Only a silhouette. People made acquaintances in the bar, of course. Naturally, it did not last longer than one football season and the final loss of one's team.

Javier walked into the bar without a purpose. He was tired from his day at work. His tanned face was sweating. His shirt was waiting to be taken off. ‘Just one drink,’ he said to himself before entering and then gave the bartender the details of his order.

But when the drink was brought to him and his shoulders finally relaxed, his eyes stopped wandering around the bar, he noticed that he was being watched from a distant table. A pair of eyes held him like nails holding a large painting on the wall. A black dress with only one strap. Red lipstick without a single shade, a standard red. ‘Oh, this is not going to be a smooth sailing ride,’ Javier knew, and then he had to decide what to do.