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again.
    The subject of the lawsuit was that I’d used too much laundry soap on his clothes when I was living with him, resulting in chronic rash on his balls. I think it was more like, chronic stupid. He had no real balls if he weren’t hiding behind the police.
    I admit to being bitter, but a girl could only take so much harassment, even when it was legal harassment.
    “Oh Lavern … please take that table,’ I begged.
    Lavern shook her head. “Not a chance girl. You see that over there. I have two tables of bikers, and they’re not exactly the kind you want to keep waiting for long. Besides, I can’t afford any of his bogus lawsuits.”
    Before I could try and persuade her further, she was gone.
    Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a menu and a glass of water. I thought about slipping some cyanide in the water, if only I’d thought to bring some of that along with me to work.
    Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have actually brought poison, even if I’d had it to bring, but it was fun to think about.
    Setting the water and menu in front of him, I took out my E tablet, which is what we used to take orders.
    “What can I get you?” I asked, as if I hadn’t the slightest clue who he was.
    “I’ll take a Roswell Wreck and some orange juice,” he grumbled.
    After inputting his order, I turned to leave, but he reached out to stop me. “Kat … I thought we should have a discussion about some kind of palimony. You know you left me at the end of the month, just when the bills were due.”
    Taking a deep breath, I gathered as much strength as was humanly possible. I would need it to keep from stabbing him with the closest sharp object.
    It took a moment, but finally I was calm enough that I could turn back and face him, without looking like some wild-eyed animal,
    “Mister Reyes, I think you should pull your head out of your ass and quit harassing me. We split up two years ago. It’s time to get over it.”
    I walked away before he had a chance to reply. If I were right, he’d have the police pulling up within minutes. That was his game. He’d bait me until I told him what I thought of him, and then he’d turn around and try to get me into trouble, mostly with lies.
    To my surprise, I actually managed to get to his table with the orange juice and the police still hadn’t made an appearance, but he was going to pull the next best thing.
    “I think I need to talk with your manager,” he said, his thin lips pressed together in an angry white line.
    “Whatever.” I shrugged.
    It would be my luck that Rafe was just coming in from his morning sunbath. I motioned him over.
    “Mister Reyes here has some bitching to do,” I said, without waiting around to see what he was going to bitch about. It didn’t matter. He’d make up whatever he wanted anyway.
    A few minutes later, Rafe made his way to the waitress’s station, a look of utter frustration on his face.
    “How did you live with that guy, without clobbering him?” he asked.
    “It wasn’t easy. That’s why it only lasted a couple of months.”
    “Next time he shows up, ask one of the other waitresses to get his table,” Rafe instructed.
    “None of them want to.”
    “I’ll have a talk with the other girls. Just stay away from his table, for the sake of the Landing, and yourself. If he brings up one of his bogus lawsuits against one of the other girls, we should be able to file our own and counter sue. That will teach him.”
    “Well it was an idea, I just hoped it worked.”
    * * *
    Opening Spencer’s front door, I stuck my head in and called his name.
    I’d already knocked once, but he had his music so loud there was no way he actually heard me.
    “Back here!”
    I turned down the volume on the stereo as I walked by. In the back room that Spencer used as a work area, I found him tearing apart an old CB radio.
    “What are you doing?”
    It was a useless question, since I already had a pretty good idea. He was always trying to modify radios so he could pick