Monday, June 14, 2010

Man Walks into a Bar

Open. That's what the sign said. Would have fooled me. Even a wiser man at that. Holes in the Walls Tavern. An obvious victim of time, this place looked like it had seen more drive-bys than second chances, but that's what I needed and this was open. I pulled my sleeve over my hand and turned the knob. Dad always said you have to watch for germs on handles and such. Alcohol would kill the rest. I parted the smokescreen that swarmed me as I entered so I could survey the joint. Plenty of open stools at the bar. I took a seat and looked at the bar tender. For running such a dump, he was a fairly clean-cut fellow. Smooth, shaven face. His hair was starting to gray, or maybe that was the smoke.

"What'll you have today?"

"I'll take a miracle please."

"I peddle sin, son. Look around. Nothin' here that'll make you see Jesus. But I can make ya say 'Goddamn'"

"I'll take one of those," I said as I pulled out my wallet to grab my ID.

"I don't need that. We don't deal in names here. That's the difference between a bar and AA. Everyone there wants a drink, but I don't give a fuck what your name is."

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