6.
Mayhem overtook the bar for the next hour as I tried fruitlessly to keep myself isolated with people constantly shoving by me to get their free alcohol. The poor bartender simply didn't have the means to serve so many people at once. After the initial rush the bar settled into a soft roar of conversation, laughter, and general happiness--except for me.
I just kept to myself, my thoughts, and my drinks and observed. The bouncer was still gathering all the stray cash and the barkeep was running around madly to keep up, but at least now the people weren't screaming impatiently at him. The man in the bathrobe was strolling around talking and laughing with patrons. I'd already been drinking for several hours, so I decided to play it cool for awhile; I noticed that the pirate was doing the same thing, continuing to smoke his pipe and sip from his ridiculous beer stein as people jostled and downed their drinks around him. The bouncer sat down in a corner and began to count through the heap of money he had collected from the bar.
After another hour, the crowd thinned out a little as the people who had had their fill left. I was amazed at first that anyone could walk out on unlimited free drinks, but soon remembered that it was a weekday, and some people had daily jobs. The bar was getting less crowded as bar goers coalesced into conversation groups around the floor, and I headed up for a refill, glad to be free of the obligation to wake up at any set time the next day.
By 11 I had become more drunk than I knew. I spun around on my stool, nearly falling in the process, to see there were still about 10 people hanging around in addition to three people passed out at the same table, and another guy vomitting in the corner to the bouncer's dismay. The bathrobe man was patting him on the back laughing madly. "That's my boy!" I heard him say.
Unaware of what I was doing I turned to the pirate, "Whad da fuck ish going on, here?" His punishing glare abruptly sobered me up--at least enough to regret trying to talk to him. I turned back to my drink, then to the bar tender, "Made shome money, tonight, eh?"
"That's the beauty of having a job, sir," he said as he wiped the bar down.
My attention fell back onto the bar and after losing my sense of time for a bit, I felt a firm hand grasp my shoulder. I turned around, wobbling, and saw the white-haired man standing in front of me with a delighted grin on his face.
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I just kept to myself, my thoughts, and my drinks and observed. The bouncer was still gathering all the stray cash and the barkeep was running around madly to keep up, but at least now the people weren't screaming impatiently at him. The man in the bathrobe was strolling around talking and laughing with patrons. I'd already been drinking for several hours, so I decided to play it cool for awhile; I noticed that the pirate was doing the same thing, continuing to smoke his pipe and sip from his ridiculous beer stein as people jostled and downed their drinks around him. The bouncer sat down in a corner and began to count through the heap of money he had collected from the bar.
After another hour, the crowd thinned out a little as the people who had had their fill left. I was amazed at first that anyone could walk out on unlimited free drinks, but soon remembered that it was a weekday, and some people had daily jobs. The bar was getting less crowded as bar goers coalesced into conversation groups around the floor, and I headed up for a refill, glad to be free of the obligation to wake up at any set time the next day.
By 11 I had become more drunk than I knew. I spun around on my stool, nearly falling in the process, to see there were still about 10 people hanging around in addition to three people passed out at the same table, and another guy vomitting in the corner to the bouncer's dismay. The bathrobe man was patting him on the back laughing madly. "That's my boy!" I heard him say.
Unaware of what I was doing I turned to the pirate, "Whad da fuck ish going on, here?" His punishing glare abruptly sobered me up--at least enough to regret trying to talk to him. I turned back to my drink, then to the bar tender, "Made shome money, tonight, eh?"
"That's the beauty of having a job, sir," he said as he wiped the bar down.
My attention fell back onto the bar and after losing my sense of time for a bit, I felt a firm hand grasp my shoulder. I turned around, wobbling, and saw the white-haired man standing in front of me with a delighted grin on his face.
PREVIOUS | NEXT
© 2006 Ian Blake & Marshall Scott
1 Comments:
Wow, I love this. Way to go Marshall (and friend). I was wondering how often you update this blog. I will go ahead and link you to my blog and include a descriptive post. I am really intrigued and can not wait for the next entry. The drawings are a bit weak, but I love everything else (the simplicity and clean look of the site, the prose). I wish the drawings were really bad or amazing but they fall somewhere in between. I hope this is constructive and once again I just want you to know I love the content.
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