When Kenny shot Charlie, no one was really sure how to react. It wasn't because it was all that surprising — Kenny had had it out for Charlie since day one — but we didn't know whether to rejoice at the end of a feud or dread whatever was coming next.
He was 26 and I was 18 when we met. I'm sure it took a few days for him to recognize me as a regular, since I rarely wear the same outfit or order the same drink twice at one establishment. But if he didn't remember me by the end of my first month at school, I'm sure he knew me by the time I showed up later that fall, soaked to the skin in my t-shirt and ill-fitting skinny jeans.