Bad Teacher (Temp Title)

5| Sinners Welcome

Casey

Charles is a dark hippy bar/diner that happens to be really popular for their drinks and food. Their busiest during the weekends when the seniors from our class popped in to get drunk and play pool. The bar has a dark theme that overtakes half the place. A lengthy bar the moment you step in is located on your right with a bunch of dark booths on the left hand side, each with their own lights decorating the walls besides it. Behind the bar, rows and rows of bottles stand on glass shelves with small lights illuminating each drink. Hanging above the bar is a bright neon light with the words ‘Sinners Welcome’ in bright red. The lights above set a dark and intense vibe and smoke clings to the air around us. a. A few framed images of old musicians hang on the walls. I knew them by heart even with my rare appearance. All in black and white. A picture of a young Elvis. Amy Winehouse. And Bob Marley—an indication that marijuana is not seen as a drug in this fine establishment.

Honestly there’s not much attractive about this place, but I’ve been here a few times and I’ve always enjoyed myself. Especially the food. The cheesy chilli chicken fries were the absolute best.

Fights rarely happen here as the bouncer—Benny—was tall and built like a line-backer. He was super mean and had no soft spots to entertain any weird shenanigans. His dark skin and shaved head added to the vibe of a man that you did not want to mess with.

A few of the seniors in our class greet us as we push through the crowd and towards the stairs leading to the underground area. My hand entwined within Logan's gives me a sense of security only girls would get.

At the very back of Charles, there is staircase that leads to an underground space where another bar was pushed against the wall. Same row of bottles behind the bar that were illuminated by lights and round stools packed in front. On the other side of the second floor area, there are a few darker booths, each with their own lighting. Towards the back there are pool tables standing to the side under florescent lights. The walls are decorated with dark colours and lights arranged to form pictures right behind the pool tables. The first is a picture of an arrow running through a heart, and the second is a grim reaper with his bony hand wrapped around the neck of a female figure. A Chase Atlantic song is playing through the speakers from the corners and there were people mauling around, their swaying bodies indicating some level of being intoxicated. Some are sitting at the bar ordering their drinks and the rest are either in the booths or just standing around, dancing. My brother and his friends hung out at Charles every single weekend without fail, and we already knew their regular spot just like everyone else here. Always downstairs and always playing on one of the pool tables, and playing for money. The unspoken championships that happen down here often involved lots of beer, heightened male testosterone snaking through the air and money being thrown around.

Dare I say pool games are life or death.

As we descend into the pits of drunk male energy, I look at Logan in front of me. She has on some tight jeans, a cute, white corset top and some sneakers. I kind of went with the same thing as I wanted to feel as comfortable as possible. Cargo pants, tiny top to keep the Logan happy and pair of sneakers.

I agreed to two hours and not a minute more.

I would never force Logan to leave with me even though she will the second I say I want to go home. I just know she needs as much time to ogle Ashton before she goes home to dream of him.

Sometimes I wonder how the inside of Logan’s mind looked like. I bet she has a white board with pictures of him, places where he’s been and what his bedtime routine is. Okay, I did not mean to go in that direction but now that the thought is here, it’s hilarious. And maybe slightly concerning that my mind would conjure a vivid image like that.