Life hits you like a brick in the face, sometimes. Not trying to dodge your tender nose or those bright semi white teeth you show off when you laugh. The brick just flies through on a path only it understands. Can you avoid the brick? Perhaps. Maybe skip the brutality as a main course and get a small portion of contact. Avoiding it completely isn’t an option which is a pain because, aside from the, you know, brick, these moments come out of the blue. They pop up like the long lost uncle that has to dump his RV bathroom down your sewer in front of your house. Sometimes there are hints the Universe whispers in your ears but it’s not like it all adds up until afterwards. Which is why anxiety is such an annoyance. Little prep helps stave off dire situations but the way of the land is sitting after the attack with hindsight and discussing how it was in front of you the whole time and you could have ducked.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’ve got a washcloth against my the side of my head after literally being hit in the face with a brick. I’m nursing a beer below me even though I probably shouldn’t after this head injury, yet I gotta drink something. The thunder gods are playing hopscotch inside my skull. I let out a moan and take another sip.
“Would you keep it down in the corner over there? You’re shyin’ away my customers!” The bartender tells me as he picks up an empty glass and starts wiping it down. Stereotypical bartender, banter and dirty glassware, next thing I’ll tell you he’ll toss the towel over his right shoulder. I looked around and saw one other person sitting at the bar; this guy has a smart mouth.
“Bruce, how dare you insult your biggest paying customer and most loyal fan,” I mumble not looking up again.
“Biggest mouth, maybe! I didn’t believe you when you stumbled in here bout that brick business but that egg swellin’ up on the side of ya head sure backs up that story. What’d you do this time?”
“Wrong place at the wrong time, Brucey-Boy.” Which wasn’t lying but it was the summation of continual wrong places at the wrong time that won me the prize brick.
“I don’t believe it, champ.”
“Y’all never do. Tell you what, you pour me another one on the house and I’ll tell the whole grand story for you,” I told him working up my best Good Guy Grin. Maybe I’ll at least get some free drinks out of this predicament.
“I’d tell ya to suck an egg, but you have already. I’ll pour it but you’ll pay for it eventually.” Gee what a good guy, Bruce is. Truth is, I’ve been coming here since the opening back when I was fixing to shut the pace down. I live above this rickety dump. Once I heard the construction I tromped down here to shoo off any prospective buyers but Bruce would’t listen. Popped me in the mouth in a few words; told me he didn’t have time to argue since he was building a bar. I grumbled and complained but did nothing about it since I couldn’t. Honestly, I wasn’t bothered but a bar setting up shop underneath me, in fact, that downright got me giddy! But the crowd that it wouldn’t attract was sure to piss me off on more occasions than it gave me the grinning good times. I’m a quiet guy, I like to do things my way in my setting.
“You’re a guy’s best friend. What would I do without you?”
“Being a crotchety grump all by yourself nursing a warm beer in your place.”
“I was going to say have some peace and quiet.”
“John, we both know you love me and secretly want to take my hand in matrimony, and I don’t blame you. I like you keeping that a secret, too. But I don’t want to see you lie to yourself about how much you love my company and business under your home.”
“I’ve told you a million times, I only started coming in here because I was tricked. Looks like you need to trick some other people, too.” The bar was still pretty empty.
“It’s almost closing time, you brainless fool, that’s why nobody’s here and you weren’t tricked. Get off it.”
“Having that sweet ole lady of yours smooth talking the grumpy guy upstairs to go out for food only to swing in here for a ‘second’,” I threw up air quotes here, “while I had no choice but be polite and wait at the bar. Then here you come, all proud and boastful offering me a drink on the house to wash away prejudice. Knowing full well I couldn’t say no.”
“It’s not my fault you thought you were getting lucky. I didn’t know the full plan, remember that. She just said it’d be good for business if we didn’t hate each other and she could get you down here. I laughed at the idea at first. As much as I hate to admit it, she was right.”
“Yeah yeah. I suppose it was a good play.”
“She is a looker, though. Sorry she didn’t tell you we were married. Which I’ve told you a million times over the past seven years and yet here I am, still apologizing for a friendship you couldn’t live without.”
“I think it’s you that is in love with me, Bruce. I won’t tell your wife but I don’t want you sneaking into my place after hours.”
“Alright enough. Are you going to tell me why you were hit in the face with a flying brick?”
“Yeah fine but only because I need to look at all the parts anyway.” I took a sip of beer before I started. It was only the my second one and I was starting to feel fuzzy even though I wasn’t even half way through. Not a good sign, I hoped I didn’t have a concussion, but I knew my brain was plenty scrambled up there. I better take it easy.
I inhaled and let out a sigh to start, “Do you remember that fire two weeks ago? Well I just happened to be walkin’ by when that picked up gusto. Call it the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place and the right time, I’m still not sure which it is, but I was in that spot when…”
“You sure you want to continue that story, John?” I stopped and looked at the new guest standing slightly behind me and to my left. I hadn’t heard him come in. Bruce didn’t seem to know who he was but I noticed the small change in attitude.
“All hell,” I answered.
To Be Continued…Next Friday