The owner of the bar came out back to turn up the TV volume after I’d already turned it up partway. I was sitting back on the table bench. He said something to me, gesturing.

“What?” I said.

He said it again, a little different.

“What?”

He said it again. I made out a couple words. “Up.” “Top.”

“What?” I said again like a total jackass moron.

“Didja turn it all the way up to the top?”

No I had not. So he did, and the volume was now loud and clear, reaching out across the graveled back patio and reverberating gently off the tin walls. There were some ads before the game began.

I thanked him and he made a joke and I thanked him again and he went inside.