I was given a short tour of the bar.
"That's the fridge, these are the glasses. This is the paper and that is the pen."
"And that?" I pointed under the bar - it was a barrel, but not the kind you'd keep your drinks in. The mouth faced me, in that freezing black.
"Just in case," Mr. Lee said.
It had written on its side

DESERT EAGLE

ISRAELI MILITARY INDUSTRIES (LTD)

I'd never worked a bar with its own gun before.
When Mr. Lee left me alone, I checked to see if nobody was looking and pushed the barrel to the side.
Just in case.

--//--

Later, one of the Germans called me. With an oxidised moustache and a long, greasy pony tail he looked like the construction worker in a cheap movie (let's keep it PG, guys).
"Can I have a Cuba Libre?"  He asked. "But a little more Cuba, and a little less Libre."
Is it too hard to imagine a Cuba less Libre? Still, it's a beautiful country.