Love in a Bar: The Bob and Jimbo Story (2006)

It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday…the regular crowd shuffles in. “SHUT UP!” comes the cry of a long time drinker as I try and copy Billy Joel. It’s been like this for 20 haunting years…the poetry, the drugs, the unoriginality. Some used to say that beautiful poetry was the language of the gods. For me, it spelled nothing but several crippling lawsuits and eventual endless nights in this dump of a bar. Some more of life’s forsaken drunkards amble into the dark room, where the light bulbs have mostly all but shattered. Bartender Bob is too fat to get them replaced. He didn’t used to be that way, but no one cares. He’s just another forgotten prince of this experience of life. We all are. A shiny 1985 Buick, six-cylinder engine with power steering and 5-cd changer, crashes through the window above Bob’s head. We laugh, as all close brothers do, happy to be alive for one more waning second.

(The dialogue of Bob and Jimbo [who is actually me])

J: Hey Bob

B: Hey Jimbo

J: Heard the old wife was sick.

B: You don’t talk bout my wife no more.

J: Sorry Bob.

B: No you’re not. No one’s sorry. All my life has just been, “Hey Bob, how’s the wife?” “Hey Bob, how bout the latest ball game?” “Hey Bob, how’s everyone but you doin?” Well ya know what, everyone’s doin fine! But don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about fat old Bob.

J: I wish I could care for you, Bob.

(awkward silence)

B: Why you lookin at me like that, Jimbo?

J: I’m lookin at that Buick about to come through that window above your head.

B: Ah shucks Jimbo, that’s the sixth one this week!

                                                                    

                                                                            The End