Wednesday is here. Is your week good so far?  I hope it is since that is the true way to have the work week move along at a better pace. Of course, we all know that. (Reminds me of the Geico commercial) Today’s story is one that has been on my brain for a couple of weeks and one of the best ways to give my brain a rest is to plunk it down here. The story is a little longer than I, usually, run it is 967 words. If you have the time I hope you like it.

Last Night by John W. Howell © 2014

So with nothing better to do, I figured I will stop at Jerry’s place and grab a couple a drinks and a burger. I, usually, don’t go there on Saturday night since there’s a crap load of amateurs takin’ up what I would consider prime space. Having not spent enough at Jerry’s to warrant bring able to call the shots, seat wise, I try to avoid Saturday if I can. Even so I go through the door, stop and have a look around.  There’s the usual weekend crowd alright, hanging on each other like they never had a date before. I tighten my eyelids against the smoke and can make out four guys by the pool table and what looks like a couple of girls fetching drinks.  I cross hustling some rubes out of a few bucks off my list since they will be forever playing eight ball with themselves.

Straight ahead is the bar and I do believe there is a place right in the middle. I get my feet to move in that direction while looking over the other side. The tables all seem jammed with happy drunks. There are buckets of empties on each table and I see the barmaid trying to sell more. She’s not having much luck since most of these people just spent their last five bucks on this outing. I make it to the chair and hoist myself up and lean on the bar.

“Hey Sammy,” Jerry says. “Whadda you have?”

“Evening Jerry. Gimmie a double Crown neat and a beer back.”

“Comin’ up.”

I like Jerry’s no-nonsense way he handles things. He doesn’t like small talk and gets right to business.  I can feel my eyes start to smart from the smoke and wonder how Jerry gets away with letting people kill themselves when it is clearly not allowed in this kind of establishment.

“Here you go Sammy. Want me to run a tab?”

“Yeah, Jerry I would appreciate that. I intend to have another drink and then a burger.”

“No problem. Gimme the high sign when you’re ready for another.”

“Will do Jerry. Thanks.”

“For you buddy anything.”

I should mention Jerry and I go back a ways. We were in the Army together and had ourselves a real ball. We could hardly believe we were getting paid for having so much fun. I take a sip of my drink and wait for the hot assed burn in my throat which signals the good stuff. There it is. I take a swig of the beer and almost believe life is good. I think I’ll wait for the whiskey to get to the brain before making any judgment.

While I’m waiting for the warmth of the Crown go from my stomach to my head, I check out the folk sitting on either side. Not too friendly as they both have their backs turned to me and are engrossed in some kind of discussion with their neighbor. I figure it’s just as well, since I don’t want to go through that old “what do you do” bullshit. I also don’t figure on staying the night, so no use getting into any long discussions about life.

I look down at my Crown and start to wonder what’s going to happen tomorrow. It’s gonna be Sunday and my daughter wants to come and visit. She lives in Connecticut and we don’t see each other often. It’s only an hour’s drive or even less by train, but it seems like a world away. Her husband is a nice enough guy, yet I always wonder if he has someplace important to go when I visit. He never sits still and is on the phone or at the computer. He makes a good living, but it seems to me a person could take an hour to sit and talk. I never had a son and was looking forward to some kind of relationship when he and daughter got married.  It’s never going to happen with him.

I take another pull at my drink and notice the burn is lessened. It happens every time. First sip initiation I call it. It’s like the first puff of a cigarette, hits ya hard then after nothing. I decide to let daughter pretty much have the agenda tomorrow. She and I have not really had a chance to talk for a while. I think she blamed me when her mother ran off with that guy with the house on the Hudson. He has a title and the old gal couldn’t resist, but I think daughter always felt I should have done something. Her mother’s sleeping with another guy. What the hell can I do about that?  I’ll just go with the flow. If she wants to go out we will. If she wants to stay in we can do that too. I better think about getting some food in the house. Of course, we can always order in. I need to move on to my drink and let this go. Tomorrow will be what it is. I hope we can somehow patch up whatever is wrong.

For some reason, I feel pretty tired and think I will go ahead and finish my drink.  Maybe I’ll just go home and forget the burger.  First though I think I’ll just shut my eyes for a minute. My hands feel good as I put my head down.

“Hey, Sammy,” Jerry says.  I barely hear him yell. “What’s the matter you taking a nap? Sammy?” I can feel him shake me, but I have no interest in waking up.  His voice gets further away and I think he says, “oh my god Sophie call 911 quick.” Now the room goes silent and I am so tired.