Champagne Blues and Bernard

It was cold outside, it seemed rather odd. It was almost mid December, it was cold, very cold but it hadn't snowed yet. Dubuque, Iowa looked still naked without her fluffy white coat. The homeless, if any, who were tired of bedbug bites were out of homeless center and for once were crashing the streets again, and the city park rather away from the bugs.

There usual lights on the locust were still changing with an artificial rhythm. The park had its trees wrapped around with some costly electric lights; probably which, too, were made in China. Christmas was right around the corner. There was the usual crowd of people, walking around making their presence known. There were women children and man, all lost in their complex structure of life. Felt like, characters from some strange unknown and unheard of play were let loose on the stage. The persistence of fake smiles and awkward small talks filled most of the Roshek building that night. Café manna java was right next door.

Rushing after the hunger of enlightenment, where mind was dissected and logic were operated by broken foreign language, where half of the understandings were lost in translation. Social psychology and Romanian teacher, scattered thoughts and hour and half waste of living on the name of education, only entitled after costly down payment but no one to care for the return.

Life was slow and stagnant. Almost felt like travelling in a vehicle which had lost all its brakes, as if acceleration was the new name for brakes. Say, they didn't know how to stop or going slow was stopping. As if no one cared to much to go fast to catch up. Only, there was nothing to catch up to, the speed of life was lousy, but it was moving at a steady pace. It didn't have any destination or any desire like a cancer patient who is fighting tomorrow just to understand the meaning of "rare" and cure for the unknown disease. The wheels rolled with creaking sound but there were many other things that were of more importance.

At 5:03 pm walks a figure, making his way through the crowd, half of them already drunken on the Thursday afternoon madness on over priced yet complimentary wine. Making eye contacts as less as possible, yet battling through time and the crowd while observing and trying to decipher the raw human emotion walks Bernard, the bartender to the manna java; he knows he is few minutes late.

It's hard to be real when the core of life is crunched and when your soul feels trapped in the body that needs chemicals to survive. A patient on chemotherapy with huge pile of drugs to make him easy to breathe would have felt better about things than casting a fake smile, selling yourself for nothing..the unknown encounter, the strange interaction and the bitter dissatisfaction of life, vivid on everyone.

No-one enjoys gathering more than those who plan simple thing like opening of a new stores in town, making it as a significant occasion as putting it down on the calendar couple weeks ahead of time. Given it's a fancy little store, fancy china and silver coating, the amenities on display were as cheap and fake as the people walking around on their trench coat and fedora hats. Tonight everyone and everything was on display, some had its price some were free and some came as a gift.

"Here you go Sir" pours another glass of wine. Tonight the class of wine is devoid of the plastic cup that were being served to or the number of time you come for a free pour; there were enough bottles of wines chardonnay and Cabernet's. There was food lying around in the table, the unappreciated goodness that the craftsman never got compliments for his creation. But, all were being consumed like humanity was after eating everything tonight, tomatoes, cheese of different kind, salmon spread to asparagus and Greek olives. Boy a confused mind eats fruits of weirdness all taste blended in one, sipped down with sweetness of wine which doesn't know the meaning of aging.

Three hours of madness, cheap wine and cheap characters; free food and free entertainment. All seemed to have lost somewhere in the melancholy of violin played somewhere off by the lonely musician from somewhere at the corner. Couples came couples left, gifts bought and discount collected, it was a night of holiday shopping for many. The store owner didn't know what to do either to talk to drunken obnoxious human being or worry about the sale or either worry about the drunken husband or the friends who were complementing on food rather than her newly opened store. At times, she felt as confused and lost as Bernard was; watching this odd and weird episode of life.

After 19 bottles of wine, 35 bottles of beers and numerous soft drinks, eight o'clock rolls in with a ache on the back and with gestures that some looked happy and some dissatisfied. Either of which meant less to Bernard, to them his story unknown. The same way, to them he being just an object of imagination that didn't have much of significance than occasional free pour of wine and the weird awkward conversations. Lets say everything had weird meaning and strange connotation that was hard to decipher, both for them and for Bernard.

***

Tiffany is working on the bar tonight. Manna java looks full and lively tonight. Even her mom who barely holds her liquor glass with her four fingers is there drinking tonight. Bernard sitting on the end of the bar stool sees her, smiles at her. He recalls her saying the other finger (thumb) is yet to grow and he hopes that someday her thumb will regenerate so that she would look less awkward holding her beer glass. Also there are regular patrons on the bar, the drunk old guy who had a bottle of wine by himself when he was outside, his pissed off mother, the lonely nerdy guy, tired cook who just got off work and few random faces were all there as a mere coincidence.

The story of life as it unfolds seems quite brutal. The bodies acting solely on the rush of hormones and if that is not good enough – alcohol always does the trick. That night there were many people on the bar. Casual and cool, Tiffany was being friendly to the known and unknown strangers. At the end of the bar Bernard was there watching the deepest and darkest human emotions unfold. He was bemused.

The music on the background was picking up. Singing songs of holiday spirit. Looked like everyone was happy and at the same time everyone unhappy with the bitter dissatisfaction's of something. Lets say it was life. Bernard now was sipping on his glass of dark brewed liquor 5.8% alcohol. There were conversations of all sort of going on. Some were being properly decoded by the receptor minds, some lost in thin air as if they were the last symbols failed to be translated by the human consciousness.

After working all day, Bryan got done with his long hectic shift a while ago. Its only been an hour or so, he has already managed to have a few drinks, just enough to feel his blood alcohol level pumped up. There were drinks and free drinks; the only thing that was paying the price was his abused livers. It's not till tomorrow morning that the effect would be felt. For tonight, it seemed like a celebration; the celebration of being a different day. A celebration of human innocence, say a celebration to life but an ordinary day at Manna Java. The same way an ordinary day for Bernard, say it was a casual Thursday evening.

Next to Bryan was Richard- a tax accountant for one of the established tax forms in town. For Richard his work seemed pointless, almost the same feeling of one not liking his job. At his mid thirties, he seemed to have been tired of numbers, his little office cubicle and his loneliness were taking a toll on him. It seemed like he desperately wanted to escape but feels like life had grabbed him so hard that escaping his reality meant to defy everything he ever stood for. So, Richard seemed to have found his solace on drinking away to glory. After a few drinks slowly numbers gets forgotten only to be accompanied by feeling of all that he wanted to do but never got around to do so. Travel around, see the world, go to places meet people, go to India, Europe and Africa, but for some reason he could never do it. Let's say he was too shy for that. Its only when he drinks, his courage to flirt with life accompanies him.

If there is something more painful to watch is a guy in mid thirties who acts like a 16 years old who just got his puberty, so is shy to talk to others. Richard mostly seemed to be consumed by his own identity crisis and the feeling of being alone without having any significant others. Say, Richard never knew the feeling. It's only in these occasional drunken madness he gathers his courage and flirts with life in a very boyish fashion.

Outside, there were still people wondering around. There were newly wed couple to couples who just had their first baby and were talking photographs by the brightly lit, well decorated Christmas tree- a token of love, a gift for the child, the gift of memory. There were people wandering with gift bags. Expensive gifts bought at discounted price, wrapped in fancy gift wraps made in china, sold in Dubuque Iowa.

There were old couples half drunk from free wine but now tired and sitting on one of the chairs out in the lobby. They didn't seem to be in any rush. They were there chit chatting about life. Some were talking about where to go for dinner to top off the experience of the fine evening they were having. In the bar the same chaos, there were conversations of many sorts, history, politics, society all well spoken and there was Bernard observing the unspoken the true nature of human emotion only trying hard to decipher why things were the way they were and why people act the way they do.