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polo.  He was one of those people that would only put long pants on if there was snow on the ground.  Sean teased him constantly that he should be one of those bike cops – they get to wear those cute cycling shorts all the time.  Brian liked cruising around in the Hemi powered Charger too much to give it up.
     
    “I thought I was kicked off the team?”  Sean asked, sarcastically.
     
    “Well, we need a long stick and you certainly look like you can run up and down the field.  Plus, I run the club.”
     
    “Who are you playing?”  Sean asked, taking a sip of beer.
     
    “Harrisburg.” 
     
    “Come on!  They hate me.” 
     
    Sean leaned forward, the t-shirt straining against his arms.
     
    “Just behave yourself and keep your mouth shut and it will be fine.” Brian finished his beer and placed it on the coffee table.  “Oh, and don’t stand next to me tonight.  Compared to you, I have little girl arms.”
     
    “Whatever.”  Sean leaned over and kissed Bailey’s head.  “See you in a few, girl.” 
     
    Bailey followed them to the door as they left and then watched them from the window as they started walking to the bar.
     
    Across the street, a figure in a dark window watched.
     
    Bailey growled.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
    III
    Doc’s
    Walnut Street, Shadyside - Friday Night
     
    Doc’s is a Pittsburgh institution, sitting at t he corner of Walnut and Bellefonte.  It has a storefront window facing Walnut and smaller window and an exit on the Bellefonte side.  Inside there is a well-worn bar that is the centerpiece of the establishment.  Like any good restaurant, the bar is where the energy or mojo of the restaurant emanates. A handful of tables are scattered through the bar (however most people were standing).  In the back, stairs lead to the roof top bar. 
     
    9:30 P.M. - it was already getting crowded.   The smell of old beer permeated the place.  Some like it.  Some don’t.  To those that liked it, it smelled like fun.  Like good times.  Those that don’t like it should not come to Doc’s. 
     
    Early alternative rock married with classic rock set the mood.  Of course, Donnie Iris played once an hour.  It was the law.   Sean and Brian went right to the roof bar. They climbed the narrow wooden stairs to the landing.  Old buildings have charm, but their charm does not often extend to functionality.  The landing was also the home to the restrooms and like any bar already had a line.  They pushed their way through the crowd and saw Brian’s girlfriend, Stacy who fancied her his fiancée, sitting at a table out on the deck.  No ring, however.  Sean doubted she would get one.  She did not care for Sean.  Stacy was trying to reach 5’5”, but never quite made it.  She had blonde hair.  Not real.  Tonight she was sporting a conservative skirt and red blouse.  She lived with Michelle, Sean’s former girlfriend.
     
    The Pittsburgh evening was crisp but not cold.
     
    The deck, constructed of wide wood planks, had a few heat lamps scattered about and was framed by old maples that grew up in the vacant lot behind the building.  Leaning over the edge of the roof, you could see all the way up and down Walnut Street.
     
    “Hey, Stacy,” Sean said, doing his best to be pleasant.  She was obviously checking him out.  It had been a couple months since he had seen her.  His travel schedule was crazy, plus she avoided him.
     
    “Hi Sean.  You look good.  You been working out?”  She asked hanging on Brian who was clearly uncomfortable.  Sometimes, people try too hard.
     
    “Like a crazy man!” Brian said laughing.  Sean looked away and headed over the bar to grab a drink. 
     
    He leaned against the bar and ordered a Rolling Rock.    Like most in Pittsburgh, he was incensed when Rolling Rock was acquired by Anheuser Busch.  He even stopped drinking it for a while.  Rolling Rock is brewed in Latrobe, not New Jersey or