Honesty, sure as hell, won't get you layed on a thursday night
Ah, the Beef Eater. A not so local bar I come to. The large, red painted, wooden sign out front, looks as if it’s been host to termites for one season too many. The windows are painted black, and the lights inside flicker. The only Bartender I’ve ever seen there’s name is Bobby; he’s a large sweaty Russian man, and I’m certain is the cause of the overwhelming smell of B.O. throughout the place. Even so, I love this place, and always feel welcome here. My home away from home.
I push open the heavy wooden door and walk in. The place is more or less empty. There are a couple of construction worker looking guys playing pool in the corner, and one guy who looks fairly out-of-place, at the bar talking to Bobby. I walk up to the guy just as Bobby walks away. “Mind if I sit down”, I ask. “Not at all”, he replied, without so much as looking at me. In the spirit of friendly conversation, I mention that I’ve never seen him in here before, and ask what brings him into, this Bar, at 1am of a Thursday night. Putting down his drink he casually looks over at me and says “I’m a little of everywhere”. This makes me smile. I look over at Bobby, now watching the T.V. at the far end of the bar, and ask for my usual. Still smiling I look over at this friendly stranger and say, “I know what you mean”. To which, he abruptly, now also looking at the T.V., says “no you don’t”, and takes another sip from his drink.
Bobby, a little slower than I’m accustomed, brings me my drink, and I notice his face is a little redder, a little less cold than usual. I ask playfully “Hey Bobb-o what’s eating you tonight”. He just puts down my drink and walks back to the other end of the bar. Still watching him, he starts flipping through the channels and stops on news, featuring some political spotlight. “So what do you think about the election coming up” I said to my funny neighbor to my left. “I don’t concern myself much with politicians” he muttered while spinning the ashtray between us. I told him I thought that politics affect us all, and that it was our duty as citizens to keep aware of what’s going on around us. He didn’t answer, but instead continued to play with the square glass ashtray to his right. Looking back towards the T.V. I notice that Bobby was now crying. I didn’t say a word to him.
Half finished my drink, I felt like paying up and leaving, chalking this up to another uneventful night. Then while taking a large drink my neighbor says, “so what’s your name anyway”? A little surprised I say “Charlie, what’s yours”. “No it’s not” he quickly retorted. Taken aback, I order another drink with a whistle and a hand gesture of two fingers pointing down at the empty glass in front of me. I didn’t want another drink. I wanted to leave. But I ordered, I think only to appear as if this man’s discourteous remark hadn’t bothered me. It did. “So what’s your name”? I say, still trying to act casual. He turned his stool around to face me, gave me a quick up and down glance and put his hand out. Shaking it he tells me “I’m Honesty”. I laugh so hard even the two guys playing pool in the corner take notice. “And what do you do, Mr. Honesty” I said, still chuckling to myself. Facing forward again and looking over to the far end of the bar he answered, “I’m a muse of sorts”. “Oh yeah, you come her to inspire me, or something”? Reaching for his drink he said, “ I’ve never even met you before”.
No longer crying, but still a little upset looking, Bobby brought me my second drink of the night. About to pay attention again to the man beside me, I hear the front door creek open. Just then a very fit young lady, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt, joined our threesome to my right at the bar. Immediately upon taking a seat next to me, she calls out to Bobby, who was already walking over, “I’ll have a sloe comfortable screw against the wall with satin pillows the hard way”. “Wow”, I said looking at her long black hair, while she was still facing forward. “I’m Charlie by the way”. She turned in her stool to face me, gives me an up and down look, and puts out her hand saying, “I’m Raye”. Unable to keep my cool, I bust out laughing. She kept staring at me, obviously waiting for me to explain my unexpected outburst. ”Sorry”, I said. “My friend and I”, pointing now the confusing gentleman to my left, “were just talking about, how attractive women never come in here”. “Well, isn’t that sweet”, she replied sincerely; I think. “So what are you doing here”? After taking a drink, she smiled and said, very matter-of-factly, “there’s no cover and the drinks are cheap”. “My kind of girl”. “Oh yeah” she said, putting her hand on my leg and sucking on the, probably stale, cherry on the end of a tiny plastic sword. Then asks me quietly, “So who’s the quiet guy”? Looking over my shoulder and smiling. Big. I tell her, “get this”, putting my arm around his shoulder, “this guy is Honesty. And Honesty is a muse…of sorts”. She laughs. Naturally. Then looking back towards me asks, “So what do you do”. I start to tell her, when Honesty pipes up and says, “ He’s cheating on his wife, who supports him”. Mouth agape and angry, I want to hit him. But I don’t. Instead I shake off the initial shock, and recover by saying to both to them, “I’m not married”, holding up my empty left hand, “and I’m an investment consultant over at AGT”. I look over at him first for a reaction, but he just keeps looking towards the far end of the bar. I then look towards Raye who seems much more timid than before, hovering over her drink, looking towards me only from the corner of her eye. Just then, giving me no chance for recovery, one of the construction workers sits down beside Raye as his friend shouts, “hey lady you play pool”? She then stands up, grabbing her drink and saying, “sure, I play a little”.
This is where I make my exit. I don’t say a word, just pay my bill and walk out.
Next Thursday, on the way home from my girlfriends place, I stop off at my favorite little dive. I walk up to heavy wooden door, only to notice it’s locked. I look down at the door to see a newspaper article taped to the door, with a picture of Bobby on the cover. The article read, “Bruce Le’mein confesses to over 300 counts of child abuse…”.
Hmm, Bruce.
I push open the heavy wooden door and walk in. The place is more or less empty. There are a couple of construction worker looking guys playing pool in the corner, and one guy who looks fairly out-of-place, at the bar talking to Bobby. I walk up to the guy just as Bobby walks away. “Mind if I sit down”, I ask. “Not at all”, he replied, without so much as looking at me. In the spirit of friendly conversation, I mention that I’ve never seen him in here before, and ask what brings him into, this Bar, at 1am of a Thursday night. Putting down his drink he casually looks over at me and says “I’m a little of everywhere”. This makes me smile. I look over at Bobby, now watching the T.V. at the far end of the bar, and ask for my usual. Still smiling I look over at this friendly stranger and say, “I know what you mean”. To which, he abruptly, now also looking at the T.V., says “no you don’t”, and takes another sip from his drink.
Bobby, a little slower than I’m accustomed, brings me my drink, and I notice his face is a little redder, a little less cold than usual. I ask playfully “Hey Bobb-o what’s eating you tonight”. He just puts down my drink and walks back to the other end of the bar. Still watching him, he starts flipping through the channels and stops on news, featuring some political spotlight. “So what do you think about the election coming up” I said to my funny neighbor to my left. “I don’t concern myself much with politicians” he muttered while spinning the ashtray between us. I told him I thought that politics affect us all, and that it was our duty as citizens to keep aware of what’s going on around us. He didn’t answer, but instead continued to play with the square glass ashtray to his right. Looking back towards the T.V. I notice that Bobby was now crying. I didn’t say a word to him.
Half finished my drink, I felt like paying up and leaving, chalking this up to another uneventful night. Then while taking a large drink my neighbor says, “so what’s your name anyway”? A little surprised I say “Charlie, what’s yours”. “No it’s not” he quickly retorted. Taken aback, I order another drink with a whistle and a hand gesture of two fingers pointing down at the empty glass in front of me. I didn’t want another drink. I wanted to leave. But I ordered, I think only to appear as if this man’s discourteous remark hadn’t bothered me. It did. “So what’s your name”? I say, still trying to act casual. He turned his stool around to face me, gave me a quick up and down glance and put his hand out. Shaking it he tells me “I’m Honesty”. I laugh so hard even the two guys playing pool in the corner take notice. “And what do you do, Mr. Honesty” I said, still chuckling to myself. Facing forward again and looking over to the far end of the bar he answered, “I’m a muse of sorts”. “Oh yeah, you come her to inspire me, or something”? Reaching for his drink he said, “ I’ve never even met you before”.
No longer crying, but still a little upset looking, Bobby brought me my second drink of the night. About to pay attention again to the man beside me, I hear the front door creek open. Just then a very fit young lady, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt, joined our threesome to my right at the bar. Immediately upon taking a seat next to me, she calls out to Bobby, who was already walking over, “I’ll have a sloe comfortable screw against the wall with satin pillows the hard way”. “Wow”, I said looking at her long black hair, while she was still facing forward. “I’m Charlie by the way”. She turned in her stool to face me, gives me an up and down look, and puts out her hand saying, “I’m Raye”. Unable to keep my cool, I bust out laughing. She kept staring at me, obviously waiting for me to explain my unexpected outburst. ”Sorry”, I said. “My friend and I”, pointing now the confusing gentleman to my left, “were just talking about, how attractive women never come in here”. “Well, isn’t that sweet”, she replied sincerely; I think. “So what are you doing here”? After taking a drink, she smiled and said, very matter-of-factly, “there’s no cover and the drinks are cheap”. “My kind of girl”. “Oh yeah” she said, putting her hand on my leg and sucking on the, probably stale, cherry on the end of a tiny plastic sword. Then asks me quietly, “So who’s the quiet guy”? Looking over my shoulder and smiling. Big. I tell her, “get this”, putting my arm around his shoulder, “this guy is Honesty. And Honesty is a muse…of sorts”. She laughs. Naturally. Then looking back towards me asks, “So what do you do”. I start to tell her, when Honesty pipes up and says, “ He’s cheating on his wife, who supports him”. Mouth agape and angry, I want to hit him. But I don’t. Instead I shake off the initial shock, and recover by saying to both to them, “I’m not married”, holding up my empty left hand, “and I’m an investment consultant over at AGT”. I look over at him first for a reaction, but he just keeps looking towards the far end of the bar. I then look towards Raye who seems much more timid than before, hovering over her drink, looking towards me only from the corner of her eye. Just then, giving me no chance for recovery, one of the construction workers sits down beside Raye as his friend shouts, “hey lady you play pool”? She then stands up, grabbing her drink and saying, “sure, I play a little”.
This is where I make my exit. I don’t say a word, just pay my bill and walk out.
Next Thursday, on the way home from my girlfriends place, I stop off at my favorite little dive. I walk up to heavy wooden door, only to notice it’s locked. I look down at the door to see a newspaper article taped to the door, with a picture of Bobby on the cover. The article read, “Bruce Le’mein confesses to over 300 counts of child abuse…”.
Hmm, Bruce.
posted by Knattyb at 6:37 PM
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