I will stand in the rain and buy beer from you

 

            The rain wouldn’t stop: a sign that this was the beginning of the end �" the end of pleasant weather and the long, overdue beginning of the winter months. People from the town fled inside and stayed there, bunched together or snuggled alone, afraid of the biting cold. What a shame, since two guys decided to face the rain and check out a fest in hope that there was something or someone worthwhile there. The pour had flushed them all away though, and besides a handful of predictable teenagers scattered around the unfortunate investment, the place was void of any decent, chat-able life.

           

So there they stood under the little, crowded roof of an equally tiny beer stand, listening to the fall of the rain and observing what little there was to see. Their spirits were dampened, and so the only logical thing to do was get a beer and make the most of it. When they stood by the opening waiting in queue for that hopeful beverage, a sudden, captivating surprise arose from behind one of the two people working there: she stepped to them and awaited their order, and they keenly gave it, trying with a smile to break the boundary between server and customer. It was all so quick that the idea didn’t stand much of a chance, though, and in a minute the two guys were again facing each other, with their fresh beers in awkward glasses, toasting to progression, the lack of it, and the bad luck of it all.

 

But engaging conversations are bound to occur in situations like this. Glimpses of the past danced around them, paralleled by bouts of longing and bitter remorse, with the occasional sprinkle of humor �" all the necessary ingredients for an interesting talk. Like night bugs, though, the light continually attracted them, and gradually they acknowledged what was on both of their minds. It was behind the counter in the tight portable bar taking orders, fixing drinks, and dishing them out to the outside world. She really was beautiful, and though there wasn’t very much space to flex her wings, the lady had a certain grace to her, a pathos that only seemed to be appreciated by the two outsiders looking in. She was the right kind of girl, they decided then and there, as if they could see into her soul. It might have just been the rain, the beer, and the pervading longing, but maybe they could.

 

The rain kept going �" on and on �" and there was nothing to do but get another round, tell another story, crack another joke, smoke another cigarette, share another dream, and take another yearning glance at the light. Two guys hiding from the rain under the little roof of a tiny beer stand every so often ordering drinks for another chance.