Scenes From A Bar Fly's Eyes
Interlude
(A spot light. A bar stool. A guy sits on the stool holding a prop glass. No matter how often he raises it to his lips and drinks, the level of booze never changes. Somewhere, a piano is playing a dark and sad melancholy tune.)
MACK
(Chuckles to himself. Toasts invisible friends.)
Whenever I drank rum I would cry- It made me a sentimental kinda guy- So I switched back to beer, to stop being queer- Yet still woke with the heaves that were dry... Ah yes-- the 'did I really do and say all that shit last night' alcohol haze. Every lesson is a learning one; at least you didn't wake up with an overweight red head with scabies. Well, she was an internet pick-up I met on line. Back in the day there was a crowd that had roaming chat room parties. Someone would go into a chat room and set up a time and date and place and then all of these faceless screennames would converge on the bar or hotel and a wild party would happen and now there'd be a face- good or bad, pretty or ugly- to stick next to the screen name the next time you went into that chat room. Funny- screennames would change, but faces wouldn't, a new identity would be created to erase any link to the one met at the party...Anyhow, there was this gal I came across on a profile page.
(Takes a drink.)
She was cute. We started I-Ming and then we moved to the phone and then we agreed to meet at one of these parties. So after all the pre-talk and type, we're both still kind of nervous sitting at the bar trying to talk. She's come with friends, I've come alone. I ask her if she wants to go dance and she does and as we're slow dancing, I notice that she feels, well, thick. She is this short little woman and she looks like I should be able to hoist her over my head, but as we're swaying in small circles on the sunken dance floor, I feel like I'm dragging a fifty pound sack of dry cement. It's all dead weight, if you get what I mean. Well, it's still awkward between us and so I ask if she wants to get some air and we go outside, along with one of her friends who now seems to be somewhat over protective. We're all outside, her friend is smoking, and my girl asks where my car is, don't I want to go somewhere else? Her friend flicks her cigarette practically across the lot and says, "You're on your own." And she, the woman with me says, "It's how I want it." I know where this is going so I dig my keys out of my pocket, roll my eyes and start to wander off. Well, my hook-up chases me down and says, "Hey- I came all the way out here to be with you." And I say, "Then why don't we get out of here?"
So we do. We get in my car and we start making out and things are getting really interesting. Her hand is all over in my lap and as soon as I lean into her, touch her, she freaks. I mean freaks. She starts screaming. "Oh my god- no- no-no!" So I back off. Way off. I start the car and begin to back out. She calms down and tells me a story I don't want to hear. I ask her if she wants me to drop her off at the door to the party and she snaps around and says, "No- let's go back to your place." So we do.
(Drinks again. Looks at the glass.)
At my place, we sit and talk finally and we have a few more drinks and we start making out again. Out of nowhere she says, "So where is your bedroom?" I ask is she really wants to go and she says, yeah, I'm cool. So we do. As we start to undress, I notice she's wearing this white shiney belt thing around her middle. She undoes it and she seems to expand- I mean like as if the Pillsbury Doughboy suddenly mutated. So I look at her and in my drunken stupor ask, "Oh- did you bring the whole family with you in there?" I'm still pretty drunk and I'm ready to send in the troops when she blurts out- I mean just blurts out- "What I told you before? I got genital warts from it. " Okay, so I'm done with the whole night and just want to get her back to her hotel party. So we don't. The night ends with me taking her up to her hotel room where her cigarette smoking friend is sitting inside, on a bed, with a host of guys hanging around. I shake hands with the girl I met and as I leave, two women walk down the row of outside hotel doors carrying paper bags filled with beer. One asks if I want to join them but I just keep walking, flipping my keys on the the large key-ring looped over my finger. The keys clink like wind chimes against each other just before they smack my palm. I do this over and over whenever I want to block out the world. I don't know what happened after I closed the door and went back to my car but I'm sure it wasn't as ugly as my night had been. I dumped my chat service that night. I was done with that noise.
(He drinks.)
Where the hell is the select-all-delete buttons when we really need them, huh?
(He toasts again.)
So here's to the goggles of beer- The ones that make all women dear-But heed this quick warning-Of the dreaded next morning- When suddenly your vision is clear.
(He drinks and the music plays and he laughs at his own thoughts as he turns his back to the audience.)
As always, I hold the copyright and the production rights to all my works!
(A spot light. A bar stool. A guy sits on the stool holding a prop glass. No matter how often he raises it to his lips and drinks, the level of booze never changes. Somewhere, a piano is playing a dark and sad melancholy tune.)
MACK
(Chuckles to himself. Toasts invisible friends.)
Whenever I drank rum I would cry- It made me a sentimental kinda guy- So I switched back to beer, to stop being queer- Yet still woke with the heaves that were dry... Ah yes-- the 'did I really do and say all that shit last night' alcohol haze. Every lesson is a learning one; at least you didn't wake up with an overweight red head with scabies. Well, she was an internet pick-up I met on line. Back in the day there was a crowd that had roaming chat room parties. Someone would go into a chat room and set up a time and date and place and then all of these faceless screennames would converge on the bar or hotel and a wild party would happen and now there'd be a face- good or bad, pretty or ugly- to stick next to the screen name the next time you went into that chat room. Funny- screennames would change, but faces wouldn't, a new identity would be created to erase any link to the one met at the party...Anyhow, there was this gal I came across on a profile page.
(Takes a drink.)
She was cute. We started I-Ming and then we moved to the phone and then we agreed to meet at one of these parties. So after all the pre-talk and type, we're both still kind of nervous sitting at the bar trying to talk. She's come with friends, I've come alone. I ask her if she wants to go dance and she does and as we're slow dancing, I notice that she feels, well, thick. She is this short little woman and she looks like I should be able to hoist her over my head, but as we're swaying in small circles on the sunken dance floor, I feel like I'm dragging a fifty pound sack of dry cement. It's all dead weight, if you get what I mean. Well, it's still awkward between us and so I ask if she wants to get some air and we go outside, along with one of her friends who now seems to be somewhat over protective. We're all outside, her friend is smoking, and my girl asks where my car is, don't I want to go somewhere else? Her friend flicks her cigarette practically across the lot and says, "You're on your own." And she, the woman with me says, "It's how I want it." I know where this is going so I dig my keys out of my pocket, roll my eyes and start to wander off. Well, my hook-up chases me down and says, "Hey- I came all the way out here to be with you." And I say, "Then why don't we get out of here?"
So we do. We get in my car and we start making out and things are getting really interesting. Her hand is all over in my lap and as soon as I lean into her, touch her, she freaks. I mean freaks. She starts screaming. "Oh my god- no- no-no!" So I back off. Way off. I start the car and begin to back out. She calms down and tells me a story I don't want to hear. I ask her if she wants me to drop her off at the door to the party and she snaps around and says, "No- let's go back to your place." So we do.
(Drinks again. Looks at the glass.)
At my place, we sit and talk finally and we have a few more drinks and we start making out again. Out of nowhere she says, "So where is your bedroom?" I ask is she really wants to go and she says, yeah, I'm cool. So we do. As we start to undress, I notice she's wearing this white shiney belt thing around her middle. She undoes it and she seems to expand- I mean like as if the Pillsbury Doughboy suddenly mutated. So I look at her and in my drunken stupor ask, "Oh- did you bring the whole family with you in there?" I'm still pretty drunk and I'm ready to send in the troops when she blurts out- I mean just blurts out- "What I told you before? I got genital warts from it. " Okay, so I'm done with the whole night and just want to get her back to her hotel party. So we don't. The night ends with me taking her up to her hotel room where her cigarette smoking friend is sitting inside, on a bed, with a host of guys hanging around. I shake hands with the girl I met and as I leave, two women walk down the row of outside hotel doors carrying paper bags filled with beer. One asks if I want to join them but I just keep walking, flipping my keys on the the large key-ring looped over my finger. The keys clink like wind chimes against each other just before they smack my palm. I do this over and over whenever I want to block out the world. I don't know what happened after I closed the door and went back to my car but I'm sure it wasn't as ugly as my night had been. I dumped my chat service that night. I was done with that noise.
(He drinks.)
Where the hell is the select-all-delete buttons when we really need them, huh?
(He toasts again.)
So here's to the goggles of beer- The ones that make all women dear-But heed this quick warning-Of the dreaded next morning- When suddenly your vision is clear.
(He drinks and the music plays and he laughs at his own thoughts as he turns his back to the audience.)
As always, I hold the copyright and the production rights to all my works!