What was I doing?Ashamed to look the barman in the eye, I mumbled for a straight Talisker. Peaty, dry and smoky with a bitter hit on the lips, it always seemed to suit nights like this. Here I was again, dressed up and alone, soaked in aftershave as if it could somehow hide the stench of what I was lowering myself to.'Thanks,' I murmured, taking my whisky without raising my eyes from the bar. I lifted the glass to my mout...