Player Piano (1980)
“As he made his way along the gravel path toward the noise and light of the saloon, however, the field of his consciousness narrowed down to a pinprick, and filling the field was a twinkling shot-glass.
The crowd fell silent as he entered, and then exploded into even greater excesses of happy noise. Quickly as Paul glanced about the room, he didn’t catch a single man looking at him, nor, in the blurred vision of excitement, did he recognize a single face among these old friends.
“Bourbon and water,” he said to the bartender.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Sorry about what?”
“I can’t serve you.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been told you’re no longer a guest at the Meadows, sir.” There was a prim satisfaction in the bartender’s voice.
A number of people observed the incident, Kroner among them, but no one made a move to change the bartender’s ruling.
It was a crude moment, and in its fetid atmosphere Paul made an ultimately crude suggestion to the bartender, and turned to leave with dignity.
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