The evening sun shines down Mulberry Street as Marcus and Dave strolled along the cracked sidewalk.
Marcus, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, held the leash of Thor, his Doberman who walked with military precision. Beside them walked their neighbor Dave, whose small frame seemed even more smaller next to his companion – a Chihuahua named Peanut who was covering no ground with his tiny legs.
"Man, I could use a cold one," Dave said, wiping sweat from his forehead. The summer heat had been relentless, and their evening walk had gone longer than planned.
"Same here," Marcus nodded, eyeing the neon sign of Asphalt and Cocktails just ahead. "Let's stop in for a quick one."
As they approached the entrance, both men simultaneously spotted the sign: "NO DOGS ALLOWED" in bold red letters.
"Well, that's a shame," Dave said, looking through the bar window. "I'm dying for a cold one."
Marcus smile. "No probs," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. "Just do as I do." With a snap, he produced a pair of dark sunglasses and slid them onto his face.
Dave watched, baffled, as Marcus straightened his posture and adopted a slightly hesitant stride. Thor, seemingly understanding the play, fell perfectly in step beside him.
The bartender – a broad shoulder man with arms like tree trunks and a one of a kind handlebar mustache – looked up as the bell above the door jingled. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Thor.
"I'm sorry sir," he called out, "but dogs aren't allowed in here."
Marcus turned his head slightly, not quite facing the bartender. "It's OK," he explained in a polite tone. "I'm blind, you see, and this is my seeing-eye dog."
The bartender had the look of suspicion. "But I thought seeing-eye dogs were always Labradors," he said, leaning over the counter.
Marcus didn't miss a beat. "That used to be the case," he explained with the confidence of a professional, "but when you serve in the military. It has been studied that Dobermans make even better seeing-eye dogs than Labradors. Better sense of direction, faster reaction times, and they don't shed as much on clothing." He added that last part.
The bartender studied Thor up and down, who sat at perfect attention, the very picture of a working service animal. "Well, I'll be damned," he said out loud, stunned. "Learn something new every day. What can I get you sir?"
"Cold beer, please," Marcus said, making it look convincing as he feels for the barstool.
Outside, Dave looked down at Peanut, who was currently barking at the landscaper’s leaf blower while blowing the sidewalk.
"What do you think, little buddy? Worth a shot?" The Chihuahua responded by spinning in two quick circles and letting out a high-pitched yap.
Taking a deep breath, Dave put on his own sunglasses, adjusted Peanut's leash, and pushed open the door to the pub.
The bartender looked up from where he was serving Marcus. His expression immediately changed. "I'm sorry sir, but dogs aren't permitted in here."
Dave remember what Marcus did and tried to convince the bartender. "Isn’t it against the law to refuse service to a blind person with their seeing-eye-dog," he protested.
The bar fell silent. Marcus froze mid-sip. Thor looked down at peanut and up at Dave with an expression of you “dumb ass!”
The bartender squinch his eyes and stared closely at Peanut, who was now attempting to hump Dave's pant in rythym the music that was playing through out the bar. "That Chihuahua is a seeing-eye dog?" he asked, voice in disbelief.
Dave's immediately went into shock and outrage. He gasped dramatically, his head spinning reaching for the barstool and look down toward the ball of fur at his feet. "A CHIHUAHUA?" he yelled as he was a Oscar nominee. "They gave me a CHIHUAHUA?!"
The Asphalt and Cocktails bar went quiet three long seconds, nobody moved. Then the bartender erupted in laughter so loud you can hear him from across the street.
"That's the funniest damn thing I've seen in my twenty years of bartending," he snorted, wiping tears from his eyes. "That shit was horrible a CHIHUAHUA. That was a hell of attempt and for that. First round's on the house – for you AND your 'seeing-eye' dog!"
As they receive their free beers, Peanut curled up on Dave's lap while Thor maintained his military position at Marcus's feet.
"Not bad," Marcus added, raising his glass. "Though your props could use some work."
"Maybe," Dave grinned, "but my drink's just as free as yours."