Home > Short Story > Musings of a Drunken @#$hole #6

Musings of a Drunken @#$hole #6

Glass of whiskeyHere’s one for you — last week a woman walks into this bar. Skin as white as snow. Like a modern day Snow White; well, if Snow White smelled of cigarettes and self loathing. Her aura permeated the room like a dark and mysterious bouquet that most at the bar were familiar with. A mating call to those daring enough to answer it. A cry in the dark asking, “dear lord, let me feel something, if only for a moment.”

I resisted the urge to answer. Not because I was a good man. But, because I found it more entertaining to watch the first wave of sharks starting to circle. Most moving on, recognizing too complex a meal when they see one. Others trying to go in for an easy kill, only finding themselves the prey. Victims of someone wanting something more than they could every offer her. A smile came across my lips as I watched their bloody escape. Making their way back into the cold and welcoming darkness from where they came. Most likely to lick and recover from their wounds.

It was only then that I decided to approach this fair skin maiden of sorrow. Taking a seat right next to her and nothing more. Sitting there in silence saying nothing, which I figured right off the bat put me in a better position then all others that had sat beside her. Silence had become a friend of mine long ago, so I had nothing to lose by just sitting there. Just indulging in my morbid curiosity in finding out what would happen next when she would finally break.

“I suppose you would like to buy me a drink?” She finally asked.

“No, but if you buy me one, maybe we could start the journey to discovering what ails us both.”

She tried to contain a slight laugh, and a moment later signaled the bartender to fix me up.

Most would consider this a victory but not caring about the outcome either way, I just accepted it for what it was.  A free drink and distraction from the normal monotony of my nightly visits to this particular watering hole. Communication with another person can be nice but when you’re not use to it, it can be awkward as hell. The urge to try and escape into the darkness like the others was almost too hard to resist.

Instead, I just accepted the drink and continued to just sit there with her, in a comfortable silence. Letting each other know on some basic level that, yes, we do indeed exist, and it matters.

I often think of my fair skin maiden and the quiet drink we shared together, and when I do, I raise my glass in a silent toast. “To my modern day Snow White, may she be feeling something, if only for a moment.”

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  1. January 28, 2016 at 12:22 pm

    Original and entertaining… I’m going to become a groupie follower!

  2. February 5, 2016 at 2:17 am

    Silent company speaks more than the crowd 😉

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