George’s Bar

On Tuesdays Neeraj (NEKNEERAJ) posts an intriguing picture for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. The challenge this week, Pause, captured a woman sitting alone at a bar. I see so much of me in her. Written between 2 am and 3 am. Take that into consideration. Nocturnal blogging. Wave of the future.

- wallpaperswide.com

wallpaperswide.com

Elyssa sat at the bar. One beer. One cigarette. The bartender, George, liked her. She was quiet. Didn’t ask for much. Always polite. She paid in crumpled bills and change, including a tip. She was aloof, rarely joining the bar’s conversation. A stranger’s attempt at a pick-up was met with knee to the groin. Yet, she gently asked George when someone missed their usual day, if there was a problem. Could she help?

George tended to several regulars like her. Their drinks limit might be higher, but they carried themselves with the same dignity and determination. The bar was their haven.

Phil had one or two on his way home to a vicious wife and a nasty son. She wouldn’t divorce him. She threated to kill herself if he left. The son was nothing but trouble. George and the regulars provided an empathetic ear.

Mary downsized after she lost her job. When her unemployment check arrived, she came in. Two mixed drinks. George often added a third, saying who ever just left paid for it. Mary nodded. She knew where it came from but let George play the anonymous game.

John’s family neglected to visit, or see if he needed anything. John was lonely except when he was sitting at George’s bar. People always spoke to him. Did he need a drive to the doctors? Did he need anything at the grocery store? John’s biological family forgot and ignored him. Friends at the bar never did.

George’s Bar closed several years ago when he died. Half boarded up, the building was the target of graffitists and a place for squatters.

Walking by you might hear the buzz of conversation. Laughter. George’s booming voice. Heart-felt queries. Problems being sorted out. Stories told to a caring audience.

George’s Bar remains a haven for his regulars.

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9 thoughts on “George’s Bar

  1. georgeplace2013 July 10, 2015 / 11:03 am

    Michael said what I felt – that place acceptance with no strings. Great ending, also.

    Like

    • phylor July 10, 2015 / 12:04 pm

      Thank you.
      We all need to feel we belong somewhere “with no strings.”
      I like adding a “twister” at the end.

      Like

  2. DELL CLOVER July 9, 2015 / 11:09 pm

    I especially love, “Nocturnal blogging, the wave of the future”. And the story was great on various levels; I especially loved the ending. I seriously couldn’t do this prompt–just the picture gave me emotional hives: only a few times did I ever sit at a bar alone, hoping for “whatever”.

    Like

    • phylor July 10, 2015 / 8:36 am

      Don’t want you to get emotional hives! I used to write while seated in a bar/tavern/lounge/pub. Long hand on real paper. Now, lap top on kitchen table and the occasional hard pear or apple cider.

      Like

      • DELL CLOVER July 10, 2015 / 4:13 pm

        I write long-hand on a clipboard–the old fashioned kind–then transfer to blog, diet Pepsi at the ready to keep me going.

        Like

        • phylor July 10, 2015 / 8:14 pm

          I have notebooks I carry around, and write things down. Ideas, observations, etc. So sometimes I’m transcribing long hand. It took quite a while til I was completely comfortable composing at the key board.
          Most of my “stuff” is still in my head. Now, if I could download it directly to a file, that would make things easier. :)

          Like

          • DELL CLOVER July 10, 2015 / 11:10 pm

            I can relate–I don’t do well, composing at the keyboard; and downloading from brain to file–that would be an amazing help!!!

            Like

  3. summerstommy2 July 7, 2015 / 12:32 pm

    Excellent tale capturing the essence of a place of belonging. I was engaged throughout by the characters you painted such that I wanted more by the end.

    Like

    • phylor July 7, 2015 / 1:58 pm

      Thank you. She reminded me of a former self and it went from there.
      I had some posts in the draft line so when I got up again last night I hit publish.

      Like

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