"Hello there," he said to me. "My name is Buddy Ray. What's yours?" He had a faint lisp. I swallowed. "Robert Johnson." Buddy Ray's smile would make small children flee to their mamas. "Nice to meet you, Robert." Buddy Ray--I didn't know if that was a double first name or a first and last name--looked me over as though I were a bite-size snack. Something was off with this guy--you could just see it. He kept licking his lips. I risked a glance back at the big bouncer. Even he looked jittery in Buddy Ray's presence. As Buddy Ray approached, a pungent stench of cheap cologne failing to mask foul body odor wafted off him, the foul smell taking the lead like a Doberman he was walking. Buddy Ray stopped directly in front of me, maybe six inches away. I held my breath and stood my ground. I, too, had a foot on him. The bouncer took another step backward. Buddy"