Strange
Tales from the Bar Rail
The
Fedora Girl and the Thespian
I
went out to dinner with a girl I met while shopping for furniture. We agreed to meet at my favorite Italian
place, so I got there a little early to secure a good table. She walked in wearing black faux leather
pants, a sexy blouse, heels and a fedora. Quite an intriguing and stylish outfit- I was
impressed. Over dinner we introduced
ourselves and talked about things we like, things we do, etc. Of course, the Old Town Ale House came up as
my favorite place to hang out at in the city.
After dinner she said she wanted to have a nightcap there to see the
place. We ordered a car and headed
over.
We
arrived and found some seats at the end of the bar near one of the actors
that’s often there. I usually enjoy this
guy’s company, but this night he was well sauced and all over the place-
verbally and physically. Upon seeing this
beautiful blond accompanying me, he lost it and kept hovering around trying to muscle
into our conversation. With some effort,
we managed to shut him down. A short
time later, after I returned from a bathroom break, I found the actor in my
seat leaning in and close-talking to her.
He was also constantly pawing her.
It wasn’t pretty and she clearly wasn’t into it.
I
pushed myself in between them and took my seat back. I told the actor to back off and stop being
obnoxious, to which he replied, “Mike, of course we’re going to try to steal
your date. This is the Ale House!” He then stumbled away laughing. I apologized and told her he’s actually not a
bad guy when he isn’t rip-roaring drunk.
She laughed at this.
After
a minute, the actor came back, grabbed her fedora off the bar, put it on and
started dancing around. He then started using
it as a prop to start a conversation with anyone who’d look at him. I told her I’d be right back and got up to
retrieve the hat, but she immediately said it was ok and asked me to sit back
down.
I
think she was just trying to be polite (or maybe she was scared to be left
alone again), but I should’ve immediately gone after the hat because after five
minutes or so, it was clear that she was concerned about her missing headgear. I then stood up, walked to the other end of
the bar and took the hat back. However,
I was five minutes too late, as by now, the hat was soaked with his excessive sweat
and stretched out of shape.
I
could see the disappointment in her eyes when I handed it back and again apologized
and offered to have it cleaned for her. She
said it was fine, but from the way she looked it over I knew that the date went
from making solid contact over dinner to
nuclear holocaust at the bar. I didn’t realize that Ale House
regulars could be such an intimidating crowd to alcoholic neophytes. It was now past 1am and she said she had to
go. I offered to grab a cab and drop her
off on the way home. She refused. She got her own cab, I walked her out and
said goodnight.
I
went back to the bar to finish my drink in kind of a daze at how such a
promising night just blew up on me. I
was bummed out. After a few minutes, one
of the bar-backs came by and abruptly dropped two handfuls of used glasses down
in front of me. I was sitting at the bar
in front of the sink to wash them, so I didn’t take any offense, but they were
in my way, so I started moving them to the rail.
For
some reason, this did not sit well with bar-back, who yelled, “Don’t touch the
glasses- you don’t work here!”
“What? I’m just putting them on the rail so they’re
out of my way. I don’t want them in my
face.”
“Don’t touch them!” he shouted angrily again
and then stormed away shaking his head in disgust. I really had no idea what it was all about,
but I could read the signs. The winds of
Fate had dramatically shifted against me and I felt more sinister tragedies were
headed my way if I didn’t react. I slammed
the rest of my drink and walked out.
###
Used Massage Parlor Mats for Sale
Another evening at the bar, one of the
more strange guys I’ve met there walked in and grabbed the seat next to
me. After the usual pleasantries, he
said, "Hey, would
you be interested in a cheap massage mat?”
“Massage mat? I don’t think so. Sorry.”
I answered.
“Oh, ok. They were just offered to me. My massage place got some new ones and asked
if I wanted them. D’you
think I could flip them for some cash?"
"Old crusty mats
from a seedy massage parlor? Why’d you
think someone would be interested in those?"
"They’re not
crusty! They’re just thin mattresses and
you can put ’em on the floor to sit or sleep on. They’re comfy man.” He was getting a bit defensive now. I didn’t say anything, kind of shrugged and
just stared vaguely down the bar. I
wanted the conversation to end. After
some silence he said, “Do you know anyone who might be interested?"
I thought about it. "They probably have more body fluids on
them than a bed at a cheap brothel- it’s a hard sell.” I then added, “Maybe a homeless
person? ”
“Oh come off it! I’m sure I could find someone.”
“I don’t know. You may be right. Good luck and keep me posted on how it
goes.” I told him. Haven’t seen him since.
###
Want
to read some more? Another blog I wrote
comprised of these types of short strange tales including "Urban Wildlife in Chicago" can be found here- keep
reading!
###
