by Ian Froeb
The bartender at Quincy Street Bistro has lost count of how many margaritas she has mixed for the mourners who've gathered at the restaurant after a funeral. A server brings her yet another bottle of Patrón in its display box. She mimes shock: "For me? You shouldn't have!" There is also a birthday among the mourners, she tells us. In a little while, in voices ragged but clear, comes a chorus of "Happy Birthday to You."