'Bar'dom

Alcohol and boredom is a pathetic combination. Add in a lady in black and white and a couple who is undecided about their relationship status and you have the bittersweet story of 'Bar'dom.

‘Bar’dom

 

 

He slides the empty shot glass back to the barkeep. His head inflates with the effects of alcohol and the inadequate gazes from the women He admires. He looks over to the barkeep and taps the table for another drink. He takes peek at His hand, the golden promise of ‘death till us part’ has left a maggoty, pale tan on his ring finger. He rests His head on top of His hands and another drink crashes towards him. He looks up and nods at the barkeep, turning from the bar he proceeds to inspect the other occupants pour “stupidity” down their throats with him. He ponders at the callous reasons of the group of teenagers sculling down Yager Bombs, Wet Pussys and B&Cs. He figures their motives, just the story of their head down the toilet with no memories of the mistakes they desire.

 

Looking for a more fulfilling scene he stops at a Man and a Woman sitting side by side. He studies them over the rim of his now empty glass. He watches the Man squeeze his g-star jeans, and use the other to raise a glass trembling to his lips. The Woman careless of her surroundings flicks her hair and makes a glib comment they both laugh at and take comfort in. He notices the Man’s air stiffen; it looks like he has duty he set upon himself. The Man lets go of his pants and reaches out to her. The Man eyes stay glued to his independent limb, the tips of his fingers stretch out. From the bar He waits in anticipation at the Woman’s expression, its contradictory He thinks. She looks both thrilled and dejected. The Man slowly turns his hand around and lays the back of his hand on her palm. He tilts His head when He sees the Woman take her hand from under the Man’s, then caress it with her one finger.

 

A hesitating dance ensues, the Man and the Woman both stare transfixed at their uncontrolled motions. The Man snatches at her finger and holds on for a fleeting second. The Man lets it go to roll his wrist and gently stroke his knuckle upon her crystal skin. The Woman half turns her hand and intertwines two of their fingers, the Man pulls back then slides a nail so softly down her wrist. Their hands never quite grasp each other, making it more intimate then intercourse and more obtrusive then a moonie.

 

The melancholy scene pops when her phone issues the sweet voice of John Legend blaring out his ballad of “Ordinary People”. The Woman takes out her mobile, both look at the screen starring at the name vibrating on the loud cockblock. They look at each other for direction, none forthcoming the Woman has only one option, to pick it up. The Man moves away a little and gazes around the bar, only peeking at the Woman once or twice. He waits for the Man to notice Him, they lock eyes for a single moment and an epiphany is shared between them. He witnesses the Man’s inexplicable suffering and the empathetic loneliness behind his eyes. The Man closes his eyes then directs his attention back on to the Woman done with the interruption. From a distance He notices the unshed tears in her eyes. The Man and the Woman both get up from their table and awkwardly face each other. Observing their farewells another drink slides to Him. He pours the fire water down the gullet and the Woman lays her head on upon the Man’s shoulder.

 

The Man is stuck in eternity, the only movement the clench and unclench of his fists. Just before the Woman raises her head the Man grabs onto her for dear life, squeezing the sweet bajesus out of her and a second or an hour later she responds in turn. The untarnished tune of “Ordinary People” comes in between them but she won’t hear it for the moment, drunk in his arms. The ringing ends and then immediately blurts out of the phone again, this time she can’t ignore it. The Woman forces herself to let go and grabs the Man’s hands and places it back at his sides. Awkwardly trying to move on from the table they chat, share a frail laugh and then proceed to walk their separate ways. The Woman out the door and the Man back at the bar silently waiting for another drink. He looks over to the Man, they lock eyes again and both raise their drink in salute of a momentary best friend.

 

Searching for another story His eyes stumble upon a Lady in black and white. Stunning and simultaneously motivating His face heats up and His palms drip with sweat. His peripheral vision full of her glow, the Lady looks up from her mobile phone and watches Him watch her. The Lady smiles at Him. He coughs a little of His drink and immediate turns around, His face embellished with embarrassment. He deliberately taps the table three times and three drinks are passed into His waiting arms. He drinks one and takes a deep breath before He takes the other. Right when He raises the drink to His dried up mouth, His sight blurs for a second. The vision of beauty takes a sit next to Him and grabs the third drink.

 

‘Cheers!’ The Lady announces and chugs down the shot.

 

‘Cheers…’ Not knowing how else to reply He mirrors her action.

 

‘What are you doing here all by your lonesome?’ She murmurs into His ear.

 

‘I was thinking the exact same thing… for me I’m just here on a mission to drown the demon stuck in my belly. What’s your motive for seclusion?’ He blatantly slurs out.

 

‘What would you say if I’m exactly in the same boat as you and just want to sink in alcohol?’

 

‘I would say… let’s rock out with our c***s out!’

 

‘Sounds like a party.’ A coy smile escapes her lips.

 

He taps the table and another drink slides over to Him, He turns to the Lady who has drink in her hand already. They tap the table with their glasses and gulp another round.

 

‘So what’s you’re story?’ The Lady asks again her expression serious.

 

‘Well see this?’ He lifts His hand and shows her the white flesh that encircles His ring finger, ‘I lost it somewhere down the road and when I was trying to find it,’ He his eyelids collapse, and a mighty burp issues forth, ‘I then realized that I’m separated from everybody by two degrees.’ He taps the table and misses the frown that marred her beauty.

 

‘Well you know what they say. The man with a thousand acquaintances is the loneliest man in the bar.’

 

‘Who says that?’

 

‘I say that.’

 

‘You do, do you?’

 

‘It’s an “orige” quote.’

 

‘Ahaha fair enough, but what about you?’

 

‘Nothing honestly, I just really want to get fucked.’

 

‘Literally or figuratively?’

 

‘You can answer that for me.’

 

‘I can, can I? What’s you’re name?’

 

‘No names.’

 

‘What? Why? Do you want to have a mysterious air about you?’

 

‘Isn’t the thought of f*****g me and never knowing my name a sexy idea?’

 

‘Jesus! Who said romance is dead.’

 

He leans over to kiss her, she dodges and blows in His ear a bone chilling query.

 

‘Did you love her?’

 

‘Who? The person who gave me this handsome tan line…?

 

‘Yes her.’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘Just a yes?’

 

‘Just a yes, I don’t need to say any more.’

 

‘Why do you say that?’

 

‘When you really love something it isn’t one thing or even a lot of things, it’s everything simply compressed in the word yes.’

 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’

 

‘Only if I get to leave on you’re arm.’

 

‘You can’t do that but you can still see me in the morning.’

 

He looks into the Lady’s eyes seeking a confirmation, He slowly stands and the Lady rises with Him. He takes a step and wobbles on His feet. Feeling like His going to vomit all over this majestic opportunity, he excuses Himself to go to the toilet. Opening the bathroom door He runs straight to the mirror. He stares at the face of average and slaps Himself.

 

‘What the f**k are you doing? You’re fantasy girl is waiting for you and you’re just jerking off in the toilet, get your s**t together woman.’ His drunken pep talk only sets Himself up for an oral bowel movement. Wiping His mouth with the back of the sleeve, He rinses His mouth out by bobbing His Head under the tap. Done freshening up, He strides out ready to face what’s finally His due. Upon reaching the bar and not sighting the Lady anywhere in the vicinity, He sighs and sorrows, feeling the inevitable suffocate His body. He taps the bar once ready to leave this dump. The drink slides down the bar then down His throat. He shakes off the rancid feeling and turns around. The Lady was waiting behind Him watching patiently.

 

‘Where were you?’ He begs commandingly.

 

‘I’ve always been here, waiting for you.’ She pouts her lips ‘Ready to go?’

 

‘I’ve been ready since I’ve entered this dump.’

 

‘Then let’s blow this proverbial joint.’

 

He slides out the bar feeling like His on cloud ten. He hails a cab and they get in. They sit on opposite sides reserving their lust for their destination. He opens the window and a cold breeze envelops the cab.

 

‘Its freezing’ states the Lady in black and white.

 

‘Well I wish I could give you this jacket but it seems I’m not man enough.’

 

‘That’s okay dude, I’m not that cold anyway.’ The taxi driver intrudes on the whimsical dialogue.

 

‘What? I was talking to… don’t worry about it and my place is here.’ He smirks at the Lady and she shrugs her voluptuous shoulders.

 

He gives the cab driver a fifty dollar bill, paying double the fee. He sprints to His door, the Lady not far behind flows past Him when He manages to turn the knob in His inebriated state. He marches through the swamp of memories that flood His mind, walking down the empty hallway that has empty portraits of His once upon a time family. Entering the boudoir the Lady is naked in all her ladyness, the flood of memories joins His bloodstream to His manwood. Calling her an angel would be an insult, deeming her perfect would undermine her beauty and doing anything but savoring the sight would be a waste of life. He walks past her and lies on the bed to mentally probe her in comfort. The ceiling light forms a halo around her manicured hair, He is truly lost in this vision of exquisite.

 

‘Am I dreaming?’ He asks the Lady the first thought that entered His stunned mind when seeing her nakedness.

 

‘Only you can answer that.’ She mounts the bed, the essence of her nude body more intoxicating then self loathing. She smiles and she leans in for thee kiss. Just before their lips touch, His mind blacks out.

 

The sun shines agonizingly through the curtains. He jerks up awake, eyes battered by yellow filtered rays. Looking around the boudoir He finds His hand down His pants, a playboy next to Him and a memory of the Lady in black and white who only smiled.

Author's Note

Just something I penned in my spare time. You can destroy, worship or say anything inbetween as long as its your honest opinion cause you can't grow with crap unless your a vegetable.