Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections by Robert Asprin

“I think we should get out of here, Skeeve.” I don’t know when Kalvin rejoined me, but he was there hovering at my side again. His words echoed my own thoughts, but sheer snorkiness made me take the opposite stance.

“Don’t be a snob, Kalvin,” I muttered. “Besides, sitting down for a while was your idea, wasn’t it?” Before he could answer, I strode to one of the tables and plopped down in a seat, raising one hand to signal the bartender. He ignored it and returned to his conversation with the other drinkers.

“C’mon, Skeeve. Let’s catch a cab back to the hotel and have our conversation there,” Kalvin said, joining me. “You’re in no frame of mind to start drinking. It’ll only make things worse.”

He made a lot of sense. Unfortunately, for the mood I was in, he made too much sense.

“You heard the Butterfly, Kalvin. I’ve been letting too many other people run my life by listening to their well meaning advice. I’m supposed to start doing what I want to do more often . . . and what I want to do right now is have a drink . . . here.”

For a moment I thought he was going to argue with me, but then he gave a sigh and floated down to sit on the table itself.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “I suppose everyone’s entitled to make a jackass out of themselves once in a while.”

“What’ll it be?”

The bartender was looming over my table, saving me from having to think of a devastating comeback for Kalvin’s jibe. Apparently, now that he had established that he wouldn’t come when summoned, he wanted to take my order.