Max always came in around three, a folded New York Times in his pocket. I’d have his drink ready before he sat down at the bar. Max dressed like a college professor, tweed jacket and sweater vest. He always sat on the same stool.
Midway through his second drink he’d ask for the dictionary. We’d spend the afternoon working together through the crossword puzzle. He’d have finished and put away his paper before Dave, the night barman, came in with his own Times.
Dave would give Max his crossword, which Max would complete in five minutes, smirking, using a pen.