Bounty Hunter Bob (2) . . .

Despite appearances, Bounty Hunter Bob was, and is, a generous sort, and also the sort who doesn't turn down the chance to have a drink in the middle of the day, or any other time. We ended up going down the street to the Derby, which at the time was owned by a friend and a half of mine. The half-friend was behind the bar, which was good, because that meant we only paid for one round out of two.

If my friend had been there, not only would we have to pay for every drink, he would have put us on the hook for the potato chips, too.

After his second or maybe third beer, Bounty Hunter Bob started telling me his life story. Or one version of it - I found out later the story tends to change depending on which bar he's in.

Hewasn’t really a low-life bounty hunter bum. He was a low-life private detective bum. Somewhere in the dim past he’d been a lawyer and been disbarred. Not for taking money or anything like that: it was a divorce case, he was repping the husband, and ended up sleeping with the wife. Pretty hard to figure, if you ever saw Bob. . . .