Remedy

            by Adrian De La Fuente

 

            “Hey Bartender, a shot,” he slurred as he blinked to focus his eyes.

            “This one is for you; no it’s for us to our friendship.” The bartender hardly paid any attention.

            “A shot and a beer,” the man said.

            The bartender gave a slightly disgusted look over his shoulder at the man with his chin in his neck, belching, and continued to adjust his white suit.

            It was sixteen ‘till noon and the room was empty. Everyone had gone to the event outside and only the usuals stayed behind. They were real nut cases, abnormal fellows all caught up in their own thoughts. They wouldn’t even acknowledge you if you asked them a question, or even bumped into them. Rarely, they would mumble but other than that it was just deep blank looks that could suck you in and keep you infinitely wondering. Wondering what could really be going through that individual’s mind, or what could lead a man to become such a catastrophe.

            The man started rocking back and forth and fell face down on the table, quickly got up, tightly blinked trying to stay conscious. “Bartender!” The voice echoed off the far wall and down a deep dark hallway with flickering florescent lights.

            It was a nice bright day with a cool breeze, but not even the flowery fresh spring smell could cover up the stale sallow old man smell out the atmosphere. The sun still came in the window, but anything through those bars dulled the environment.

 

            I looked back over at the drinker; he was staring at me now.

            “Hi” I said timidly in a voice that was so quiet one would have to read lips to get the message. Through his greasy hair you could see his red veiny eyes, open, glaring at me.

            “What are you looking at, huh?” He finally said.

            “You were looking at me first!” I kept me eyes on the white tiled floor. He took a deep breath and leaned over to hiss “stay the fuck out my eye space” with the worst case of morning breath anyone could ever experience.

            He got up as if he had somewhere to go, but immediately fell back into his seat. Then he started beating the table. “I need a drink,” he started repeating.

            “Two beers, two beers,” I followed after him. He stopped his rambling.

            “Hey boy,” he said. I kept my eyes on my feet, counting my toes from pinkie to pinkie, and didn’t answer.

            “So you liked to drink” he chuckled.

            “Two beers, two beers,” I repeated, even if I didn’t actually like to drink.

            “So, what are you here for?” He asked, though it was strange hearing this from some one who is so desperately trying to order drinks here.

            “The doctors told me there was something wrong with me, now I spend my days here.” I said, looking over at him, waiting for his story.

            “That’s what they tell all of us” he replied. It mustn’t have been a good enough reason for him, but that was all I could say.

 

 

            “She left me, took everything I had and disappeared,” he said

            “Why?”

            “That’s none of your freaking business” he snapped back to me. He scanned the room as if he was looking out for some one and said “I just want to forget, so I drink.”

            Suddenly one of the usuals started beating his head on a wall screaming “GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” While another yelled at him “nobody cares!” Two men in white suites came and took him away down the deep dark hallway.

            To my surprise he hardly gave any notices to this I guess being here for so long one start to get used to it. He said something but the loud speaker blocked him.

            A big lady with a squeaky cart came. “It’s twelve o’clock gentlemen, here are your cocktails.” As he gulped his cocktail down, I looked down in to my cup and found my remedy.