This Too Will Vanish...

By etherghost

"Here comes the sun" comes on twice within the first 15 minutes I've been in the place. I have a sneaking suspicion who might have played this song is such rapid fire succession. There is a drunk blonde woman with swollen eyes sitting at the bar telling her tales aloud to any who will listen, but mostly to the television.

The bar is noticeably brighter than usual and immediately I am a bit crest fallen. The young squeaky clean bartender doesn't know me from Adam and it's just me and the bottle blonde.

I don't ever want to be that woman. As I order my Smithwicks, I return a book the regular bartender loaned me a couple months back. (shit- am I already this woman?) Returning books to the bartender sounds a bit sad tonight. Usually I think it is sweet and simply a sign of character and trust. A few more Beatles' songs play. As my music selections begin, I sigh audibly. Robert Johnson's "All my love in vain" (Yes, I play this every time).

The blonde at the bar is trying to relate to the young bartender who is still in college- "I did good in English" she says. She keeps talking, slurring her speech just a little as she mentions her "accident."

"House of the Rising Sun" comes on. I am sitting in the front right corner of the bar away from tonight's bright lights, not my usual spot at all. "Who is this?" She shrieks- "I've never heard this before." "Yes, you have..." the young bartender assures her.

He comes over and brings me a glass of water that I didn't ask for. "If you don't want it, you don't have to drink it" he says. Okay... I've only had two swallows of beer but I will drink his water. The Zombies come on next, and at the bar they are talking loudly about Steve Perry of fucking Journey, oh no no no...

"Steve (Perry) doesn't respond to ultimatums at all" - apparently the blonde has the inside track. As there are only the three of us here tonight, my stories are limited. I am enjoying being out, listening to my selections and watching my pen glide across the page. I had a good and relatively productive day, and to come here and write was part of my plan.

Cat Power's song "Lived in bars" comes on next. I think I played it for the blonde. Truthfully, if I was in the right mood, I might enjoy talking to her and hearing her stories but tonight she is a bit of a mess. She's around 55 or so I am guessing. At some point it gets sad. At some point our age or our old ways must seep out and we cease being seen. We cease being cool. The sad part is we don't realize when this happens, it's like a secret switch. (I am not sure if I really believe this.)

The bartender and the blonde are trying to one up themselves. As they tell their stories, they are locked in a twisted competition. I think he actually enjoys her company. Joy Division's Transmission. The bartender says that he is getting into "this 80's sound" I don't know if that was for her benefit or mine. He comes by again and asks if I have enough light. I assure him I do. He has this place lit up like a Christmas tree but without the glowing nostalgia.

More songs play, and they keep talking as I keep writing. "Fade into you" by Mazzy Star comes on and I sing quietly aloud in my little corner of the universe. Perhaps I am in a Wong Kar-wai film.

I look out the small window above my right shoulder and stare at the blue moon.
There was more to it than this ...

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