So here I am sitting in front of a half full drink at the local “small town bar”.
Half full you say? Maybe, because I’m a little full. As a usual thirsty Thursday at the local watering hole.
Kitchen closes in 5 minutes, get your meal before your stuck with pizza and Cheesey Garlic toast. “I don’t wanna hear you say that you haven’t gotten a good Base to drink”.
It’s been 20 years that I have been working in this establishment that had been passed down through family over the previous century.
It was the 12th of February. The bosses wife thought it’d be a great idea if she had the ultimate Valentine’s gift! A spirit clearing and sage cleansing, done by so called “Professionals!”. On the 13th day of February an odd looking character has made an appearance. Those of us that had grew up in this “small town.” Know a regular face or someone who is from out of town.
It’s understandable, no small town place on the hill won’t have an unfamiliar face here and there; It is what it is. But only, could it be just that simple?
Bartender ask the man sitting in front of the taps, seat B13. “What would you have?”. The man replied with a soft gesture of innocence “What’s all on tap?” The bartender looked at the man and continued by reading off the handles that stand tall in front of B13’s location.
I slowly and quietly chuckle, “what an idiot” I thought to myself. Is this man playing a prank on the staff or just so illiterate to a barr scene? It should be an easy conception considering half the place is shut down for the night. No kitchen, no waitress… I mean come on!
Well the man eventually finishes his tap Busch light… Half hour later. The taste of a warm tap poured beer is next to the mother in-laws cooking after doing a couple shots and smoking a J or two. Faded and burnt! The man exclaimed! The three of us finishing our drinks kinda chuckle and finish what is left in our glasses. We can see the bartender wants to go home.
The boss walks in with his usual happy little smile that only a few of us know how to read. I send out a quick nod to the others, “it’s time to go”. They slam the rest of there drinks and skidaddle. I continue on and lock the outside doors now so that the public cannot enter. The bar is dark, no overhead lights remain. Just the dull lit stools and tables that surround from a neon light and the sound of a beer cooler fan running.
It’s been a long day at this moment, I grab the garbage bag and head for the back door as I turn back to look the boss tells me to come back inside and hurry. I nod and as I walk towards the dumpsters I couldn’t help think the worst! Trying to keep calm, my anxiety has already exceeded the usual threshold! “What did I do wrong?” Repeating every step back into the building! Replaying every situation that I could possibly imagine from the last week! Still nothing seemed to cross my mind! Except… Not cleaning out the drain trap of the dishwashing station(not my job, but I have the kitchen to run.)
As I enter the bar, I am greeted with smiles and a overly exaggerated “thank you” from the bosses wife. I said to them “I just do what helps”.. If I knew what that honestly meant back than, I would’ve thought twice.