Paradoxical ChauvinismChapter 8
Light conversation fills the atmosphere. The lighting is dim, the tables are clean and the televisions behind the bar are filled with images of the news, stock market and horse racing. It is Malcolm’s element, his stomping grounds. There isn’t a crowd he has to shove his way through and by the time he reaches the bar, the bartender has his drink of choice waiting for him. “Put it on my tab, Charlie?” he asks the bartender. The woman nods. “Dr. Winters is waiting for you over there,” she...