It was 2 AM. I was informed by an employee at O'Mulligan's Drinking Hole that the bar was closing.
"Get your rear near the door or I am throwin' you out on your ear," he chuckled. Most definitely this was a line he had used before. No way was this Keeper of the Bar coming up with this Bouncer Line, just for me.
Golfy, yes that was the name on his badge---was a gangling looking guy. Sort of reminded me of a 2-legged giraffe. He was too tall to be a bartender, I thought, maybe because I was shorter than him---standing or sitting.
Rather than working at a drinking establishment, he would have fit in better at a clothing store. Boys R Us. And his name badge would have read: Geofrey.
If fightin' dogs were housed at zoos, would they mate with giraffes? If a tiger and a rotweiller were cage mates, would we be oohing and ahing at a Rotiger?
He waved his sknny fingers at my slumped posture to get a movin'
I felt like a dog-- a sick puppy really---but I was taking care of myself.
"Take 6 glasses of anything potent, I don't care, but no ice and call me in the morning"---was what Dr.Toxy prescribed on my encryped Voices Mail Box. She never left a return phone number but I always called her back telepathically.
My head was always a ringin'. I ignored most calls.
No one should talk to a drunken soul the way Geofrey was. I did not choose (well maybe I did) my current state of mind and body. But then I guess I was the only man standing or stooling, as that is what my butt was resting on.
He had no idea who I was or why I was like this. But I didn't need him to know--he was nothing to me.
I have found myself many times as the one who closes down a bar. They are like homes to me. Which is a good place to hang out since I do not have a permanent residence. Actually no one does. The banks and their mortgages are the only thing permanent about a home. And the taxes are taxing.
I am a Free Bird without wings. And on my skinny bed sore legs I can maneuver my way about any town.
And that's what I do for a living.
Rather than what I coud be doing as a dying.
I should have peed before I exited the establishment. But that's another story.
From the warmth of a quiet bar, I found myself in the 9 degree below world (and this Global Warming?)--or maybe that was the chill factor, but does that matter.
Whatever the weather, I was always shaking.
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Liquid Drift
الخوارقMorgin escapes his Hospital Death Bed to enjoy his remaining Dazes with the Living.
