Yes, this is a romance tale. My first one.
Like all of my stories, it shall be brutally agressive in violence, R-ration, and nonsense.
This is true love, transcending Alice and Brian's years= 15ys. old and 42ys.
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The bar tender was a twenty nine year old sarcastic jackass with too much company. Everyone liked him and kept his hands busy refilling their Ale. His friends were the patrons that came in.
This was the bad part of town. It was deep in the dark valleys of downtown where little banners with mermaids hung outside the saloons. Muggers were in every corner. Whores exposed themselves to walkers-by. The patrons were just the ones who thought it was too wet to stand outside much more and decided to wet their whistles instead.
The bar tender leaned toward his friend, Jerry, who only ordered whiskey, "Who'd 'e come in with?"
No one but the bar tender would've noticed him. He was all in black, his face dipped behind the coat collar and hid mostly everything but his eyes. He looked thirty, maybe fourty years old. But never once did he talk to the bar tender. He came in here all the time and only ordered by making hand motions.
"Hey, what they call ya, stranger?" said he to the mysterious one.
He said nothing, but looked up with sad eyes. The guy drank heavily, so perhaps these sad eyes were just drunken. Or maybe he was running away from his problems; like most people in bars did.
"I'm no one."
"Hey," said the bark keep, pouring out a whiskey, "sure ye are. What's eatin' you?"
He took it and chased down his words with a single drink, "I'm a failure."
"Is it a woman, there, mister?"
"It's my entire life."
Yes, this guys wasn't drunk. Surely he was sad. He looked like the kind of fellow that'd slit his own wrist just because the queen resigned. He was a gothic alright, dark hair, his clothes were designer and very dressy, he was the type of man that could either depressed you or make you angry at the fact you're so different from another human being.
"Bet you're good at something. Got any cash to start a business, there?"
"Got cash. Got no will. I don't need a business anyway."
"Just a suggestion."
He nodded, closing the eyes for a second, relaxing his features. The bar keep removed the glasses, "Well, if ye got cash, you can pay for the drinks, then?"
He slapped down a fifty dollar bill and stormed out of the bar.
"So what'd ye get out of him?" Asked Jerry.
"Eh. He's just an eyesore. Doesn't say much. He'll be back by nightfall, you'll se, Jer, he comes in like twice a day. Just sits his sorry-ass on my stool and scares away me patrons."
"I don't want him back here."
"I know what ye mean . . " he said, suddenly picking up a phone.
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