Lost in Thought

Chapter 4

Before I knew it, I was coming up to my exit. Leaving the freeway, there's a bar on the right side named "The Eighty-Three". I'd passed it a million times on my drives home and never thought much of it, but something about it was drawing me in.

Pulling into the parking lot, I couldn't understand why I was so compelled to go in. The building was small, almost shack-like, with dirty siding and a flashing neon sign that was missing the "h" in "three", so it read "Eighty-Tree"; like an old Italian man trying to say the name. The front door was coated in grime, making me feel gross just looking at it. It didn't seem to have any windows, but there was something very fitting about that. Like anyone who frequented this place would really want to see the light anyways.

Walking through the front door, I stuck out like a sore thumb and that was made very apparent when the few patrons in the place - regulars, no doubt - picked their faces up out of their mugs and stared me down. I was still in my "business casual" work outfit of khakis and a sweater. I had to have looked like the biggest square in the world, clearly lost and looking for directions far away from here.

I took a seat not far from the door and signaled to the bartender. He eyed me up and down as he sauntered over and nodded to me, his way of asking what I wanted without actually having to say it. I asked for a beer and had a huge mug placed in front of me within seconds. The mug was slightly dingy and the beer a shade of off-brown. I think of how awesome beer looks in cartoons, honey-colored and delicious-looking. A small sigh escapes me and I take a sip.

The jukebox, ratty and beaten up, had what sounded like country music coming from it but it was difficult to discern because it wasn't playing very loudly. Most of the buttons were missing and it looked like the ones that remained probably didn't work. The glass was cracked and the parts that weren't cracked were covered in dust and dirt. The walls were covered in road signs and animal heads, casting shadows in the dimly lit bar of monsters so massive and vicious that would give any little kid nightmares for weeks. It's like this place just kind of froze in time as the rest of the world moved on and evolved; this place would stay the same for centuries to come.

At the other end of the bar, I noticed someone who didn't look like the rest. The standard look was "trucker chic", dirty looking woodsmen with tattered flannel and somehow even more tattered jeans. They must have gotten a group discount on work boots since that seemed to be the footwear of choice for everyone in the place. Tattoos of tribal bands they likely couldn't identify the continent of origin of, names of children and ex-spouses, flames and crosses branded their skin like badges of poor decisions they would show off for the rest of their days.

But this man was none of that. His hair auburn hair was cropped to one side neatly. He wore what appeared to be an expensive button-up shirt underneath his pea coat, everything about him screaming careful, minutes-long consideration in the mirror. Maybe he was having a bad day, too. We shared a momentary glance and I nodded towards him, raising my glass and forcing a slight smile before returning back to my drink and my thoughts.

Before I realized it, he was settling in on the stool next to me. He didn't acknowledge that he'd moved or say anything about why he did, going right back to his beer and staring at the basketball game that was playing on the dingy, horribly outdated television hanging in the upper corner of the bar. I wasn't sure how he could follow what was going on, the thing was so small and dusty that I could hardly make out that it was basketball let alone figure out the score or what was happening.

I think to myself that maybe he just couldn't see very well from the angle he was sitting and just wanted a better vantage point. There really was no other reasonable explanation for why he would want to sit next to me, though his carefully manicured appearance certainly led me to a few wild and unwelcomed scenarios in my head. I really hoped that he was just looking for a better view of the television.