“Things are spelled weird in this universe,” I say, driving
down the street.
“Um, I don’t think that is correct even here,” Maria says,
glancing up at the sign, then returns her attention to the locator. “Next
right.”
“These IDs look really fake. I don’t think they will work.”
“Of course they are going to work. It’s up there,” she glares
at me, pointing to the red brick building.
As we approach the door, I glance at my ID again.
“Maria, this is crazy.”
“Quit being such an old woman. I’ve done this before, just pay
the man at the door, show him your ID and he’ll let us in.”
He stares at us. His face glows in the light from outside. I
swallow hard, slip him a fifty and flash my ID at him. Maria smiles at him and
does the same. His hand moves out of his lap and we hear a buzzing sound, then
a click. The door swings open to a room filled with red lights and the
repugnant stench of stale beer and vomit. Wonderful, we crossed universes to go
to a dive bar; I could have waited another month before I turned twenty-one.
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