(no subject)
Short Story
He cocked his head. Peter could barely make out the moon behind the tall buildings of our run down urban setting. He checked his watch, the light from the awning was reflecting off the face but he was still able to confirm that it was 2:45 on the windup that his father had given him on his death-bed. Indeed it was time to go home. The bar closed up a little early for a Friday but he was the only one there and had his fill. He'd been coming to this joint since the days it would have still been so packed at this time of night that when you ordered a drink you could send a package 2nd class to California and expect the recipient to open it sooner than you would be able to start drinking the week's troubles away. This bar was always good to him. It was the cause of his marriage, the cause of its failure and the place he came to when he wanted to forget about the girl he loved so long ago. The bartender knew the drink Peter wanted from the expression he was wearing on his face and would always ask him how things were going. The bartender could have been John at the bar from Piano Man but he, like his peers, had given up the idea of chasing fortune and fame long ago. There was no more dreaming of red carpets, pretty girls or the paparazzi. John was too old for that now- he had his wife and kids in college one studying to become a doctor at the state school and the older one was a Stanford man, still more preoccupied with freshmen girls than text-books. The college kids of this town had long since left this particular bar trading up for the chain where scantily clad waitresses served Jagerbombs to over-tipping kids mostly in hats sporting the school logo or sweatshirts proudly advertising the year they made it to a big bowl game. John wouldn't know how to make a Jagerbomb if one of his clientele should order one. It was a beer and bourbon joint and that's exactly Peter had been drinking tonight. There weren't any kids out partying like usual they had all gone home for the holidays. Peter's family was pretty much limited to the aunt he never got along with and the other regulars at the bar who were more than likely at this time preparing to wake up and hand out the toys they would struggle for the next six months to pay for. Peter had even used his employee discount at the super center to help them out but kid these days get about every toy ever made for Christmas. The company Christmas party the day before was a bore as everyone expected but they still put on their smiles and sucked up to the boss and his wife just the same as they did every year while consuming the small quantity of egg nog which made it bearable for the lucky ones who got there early. No one would have even showed if they knew that in two months the boss would step down as store manager after being caught stealing by the district manager. In a world where an assistant manager position was the difference in renting a home and mortgage payments everyone has to do their best to one up everyone else. Even with the turmoil at the store and the majority of management quitting to take better jobs at the new shopping center downtown Peter was overlooked for a promotion. So much for the two years he'd put into trying to move up. That was one of the reasons he got out this evening. He's not entirely sure himself the exact reason he ventured out in this cigarette breath causing cold air. The cab pulls up just as John starts to lock up. Peter waves goodbye to his old friend and steps into the cab just as the hands on his watch reach 2:49. In five minutes he'll be home, smoke his last cig while watching the infomercial for the set of knives his store gives to people who sign up for the credit card with 29% interest and a 10% discount for everything bought at the store. He cocked his head. Outside the cab window he sees a sign advertising the great state of Ohio. He thinks for a moment that maybe his dreams are a state-line away. He directs the cabbie across the bridge pays him and steps out. Peter walks down the street and into a new life armed with nothing but a $16 dollars in cash, a debit card and a cell phone. The first bus leaves for Cleveland at 5:30 AM. Peter will be on that bus.
NEG
-2005
He cocked his head. Peter could barely make out the moon behind the tall buildings of our run down urban setting. He checked his watch, the light from the awning was reflecting off the face but he was still able to confirm that it was 2:45 on the windup that his father had given him on his death-bed. Indeed it was time to go home. The bar closed up a little early for a Friday but he was the only one there and had his fill. He'd been coming to this joint since the days it would have still been so packed at this time of night that when you ordered a drink you could send a package 2nd class to California and expect the recipient to open it sooner than you would be able to start drinking the week's troubles away. This bar was always good to him. It was the cause of his marriage, the cause of its failure and the place he came to when he wanted to forget about the girl he loved so long ago. The bartender knew the drink Peter wanted from the expression he was wearing on his face and would always ask him how things were going. The bartender could have been John at the bar from Piano Man but he, like his peers, had given up the idea of chasing fortune and fame long ago. There was no more dreaming of red carpets, pretty girls or the paparazzi. John was too old for that now- he had his wife and kids in college one studying to become a doctor at the state school and the older one was a Stanford man, still more preoccupied with freshmen girls than text-books. The college kids of this town had long since left this particular bar trading up for the chain where scantily clad waitresses served Jagerbombs to over-tipping kids mostly in hats sporting the school logo or sweatshirts proudly advertising the year they made it to a big bowl game. John wouldn't know how to make a Jagerbomb if one of his clientele should order one. It was a beer and bourbon joint and that's exactly Peter had been drinking tonight. There weren't any kids out partying like usual they had all gone home for the holidays. Peter's family was pretty much limited to the aunt he never got along with and the other regulars at the bar who were more than likely at this time preparing to wake up and hand out the toys they would struggle for the next six months to pay for. Peter had even used his employee discount at the super center to help them out but kid these days get about every toy ever made for Christmas. The company Christmas party the day before was a bore as everyone expected but they still put on their smiles and sucked up to the boss and his wife just the same as they did every year while consuming the small quantity of egg nog which made it bearable for the lucky ones who got there early. No one would have even showed if they knew that in two months the boss would step down as store manager after being caught stealing by the district manager. In a world where an assistant manager position was the difference in renting a home and mortgage payments everyone has to do their best to one up everyone else. Even with the turmoil at the store and the majority of management quitting to take better jobs at the new shopping center downtown Peter was overlooked for a promotion. So much for the two years he'd put into trying to move up. That was one of the reasons he got out this evening. He's not entirely sure himself the exact reason he ventured out in this cigarette breath causing cold air. The cab pulls up just as John starts to lock up. Peter waves goodbye to his old friend and steps into the cab just as the hands on his watch reach 2:49. In five minutes he'll be home, smoke his last cig while watching the infomercial for the set of knives his store gives to people who sign up for the credit card with 29% interest and a 10% discount for everything bought at the store. He cocked his head. Outside the cab window he sees a sign advertising the great state of Ohio. He thinks for a moment that maybe his dreams are a state-line away. He directs the cabbie across the bridge pays him and steps out. Peter walks down the street and into a new life armed with nothing but a $16 dollars in cash, a debit card and a cell phone. The first bus leaves for Cleveland at 5:30 AM. Peter will be on that bus.
NEG
-2005