I opened the door and walked into the room. It was a warm day, the interior was cooled down and air conditioned. I needed a drink. Walking up to a bar I saw that the place was nearly empty, with only the jukebox silently playing some ballads.
„One lager, please.”
The bartender poured me one while curiously looking up from the tap. I smelled his pungent cologne while he leaned over with the glass and asked:
„Don't even get me started.” As I replied I thought that maybe small talk with a stranger might help.
So I sat down beside the bar on a stool so high I had to nearly jump to sit on it.
„Family trouble?” The bartender asked.
How did the know? Was it that obvious?
„Ahh, kids. Never had, never will, hate them” As he spoke those last words I knew I wouldn't get much of talking to him. I had two children, so why bother. I paid for the drink and without saying a word moved to a table seat. I sipped my beer and thought about Peter and Kaya. Little buggers. One worse than the other. Or better? I don't know. Suddenly, two drunk men threw themselves in, pounding the door. They were screaming and blabbering something about futsal, or.. ball ? I thought it’d be better to leave now rather than later feel sorry for staying, despite my curiosity to watch how they were nearly falling down with every attempt of walking a step closer to the bar. The back door. My gateway. Left the beer and walked out. Into the heat. Into the street. I lit a fag and walked home. Home to my little buggers. One better than the other.
Switch the perspective:
Up to the end of my shift there he walks. A middle-aged guy with a loosened tie. Last two of his shirt buttons were undone. He looked like the inside of sweaty shoe feels. Dreadful. Although, among all of this tiredness and I-gave-up-on-my-life-ness, he did look kinda handsome.
“One lager please.”
Words uttered, the conversation started. I felt sorry for the guy. Didn’t want to leave him hanging.
“Rough day?” I asked. I did that not only because I was curious, but also because I thought he needed that. The only thing I was afraid of was the fact, that he might be one of those guys who goes to bars for psychological help from bartenders. Bartenders who are already fed up with all the neurosis they have to deal with every day.
“Don’t even get me started.” Yay! He wasn’t one of those guys! So, judging by the fact that he is so exhausted but has a ring still on his finger, I'm assuming that it's not his wife leaving him kinda stuff. Also, he doesn’t carry a suitcase with him then it's not work.. so I suppose KIDS. That’s the problem here. Ok so, here we go. I'm shooting.
“Family trouble? “
Kids! Oh, my god, I got it! The first time! Ok, so, here, ok, oh my god. I got it. Ok, Calm down Jeremy, he's yours do not say anything stupid. Ok.
“Ahh, kids. Never had. Never will. Hate them.”
That was too strong. I SHOULD NOT HAVE DONE THAT DAMMIT.
Judging by his face he’s thrown off. Yep, he hates you, good work Jeremy, good work. Damn. Oh, noooo some drunk fucks are having a ball again. Bollocks. I better take care of that. Oh, he left.
@ellowrites #prose #fiction #writer #bar #perspective #fragment #youngwriter #polish