Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Photo Hosted at Buzznet.com

I was stuck in a seat that I didn’t like but I was already being talked to so there was no escape. I actually started out in my favorite seat but then a friend came in so I moved down two seats to sit with him, and then the manager started fussing with the nonworking flat screen and asked if we would move down some more, when my friend left I move to the last seat at the corner.

Partly I was calculating consumption rates and guessing when the last guy remaining talking to me would leave. Every time I was served a beer I would look to the bartender who would just roll her eyes and then shake her head and sometimes say “Can you believe it Timmy?” She would set the full beer in front of the soon to be empty beer. The full beer would leave a ring on the bar which I would wipe up with the cocktail napkin that was partnered with my Budweiser coaster. They know I prefer the coasters so when they see me with the napkins they will usually toss me a coaster which is why I had both. I keep the napkin under the coaster, sometimes I’ll just use the napkin to wipe the bar dry but most of the time I’ll slide the coaster with my beer on top and the napkin underneath and move it clockwise over the wet ring.

I had just vanquished another ring of beer, with my little pint glass dance, when my talking buddy called me back into conversation.

“Hey, is it Tom?” he asked as he offered his hand.
I smiled and said “It’s Tim. You were close”
“Well, you never say too much so “
“That’s why we like Timmy” the barkeep interrupted
“That’s by design” I said with another smile even though on this night, trapped between three other regulars, I was rather talkative, for me anyway.
The conversation had been mostly about how this last regular was going to buy a boat, his friends had a variety of opinions. He’s buying a boat because he heard boats are PM’s which he explained to be pussy magnates. You need all the help you can get is what I thought.

After that last regular left and there was a shift change at the bar I watched the new bartender fold a paper placemat into fourths and start to rewrite the specials list on the white back side. It was the same specials list that I ordered from at lunch. I looked around and I was the only one at the bar. I looked further around and discovered I was the only one in the bar, just me and the help, which I thought was odd at eight in the evening.

“Why are you rewriting the specials list?”

“Because I don’t like the way she does them. I don’t like how she spells chicken C-H-I-X. And I like them in order by price.”

“And what’s up with that extra ‘C’ in front of chix?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” she said after she looked at it in disgust

“You’re obsessive compulsive” I said and she shot me a glance but she said nothing, I guess she didn’t want such an easy target.

She just left the new specials list sitting on the bar and she went to talk to the wait staff. I took out my camera and took a shot of the new list with the same old specials. She came back and extended her hand. I handed her the camera which is the same make as her own. She viewed the photo and just shook her head. I said “What?! There’s going to be a story with it” as she just walked away.

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