Doughterty's, after the voices

I go for a cool pint after my time at the VA.
I drink my first one quickly. The Afghani smiles at me. It's been a long time! I say.
He brings me another, on the house.
A man comes in. He cannot sit at the bar because of his stomach.
He sits near me. I am in the corner at my favorite table.
He orders a "Genesis" and looks at me to share in our mutual love of that black beer before continuing with a food order.
The waitress interrupts, "Oh, Guinness?"
"Yes, of course. What was I saying. Genesis, ugh."
I can't stand how embarrassed he is. It hurts me. He wanted to talk to me, about our choice in beer, and now he can't. Oh, it's terrible and it's a relief.
I continue to read, pretending I didn't see or hear anything.
He doesn't talk to anyone.
I finish, I leave.