Tales from Adrian's Bar

[ShortNCuddlyAm]

Now that's how the film should have been!

[pshrynk]

And that explains why Harv hates Ska...

[mvisconte]

I paused at the door, squared my shoulders, wiped the corners of my mouth, tried on my best Humphrey Bogart impression, and headed for the bar.

Of course, with squared shoulders, I couldn't get through the door, so I took the square root, multiplied by two for some padding, and tried again.

I had to turn sideways several times to make it past some of the other patrons, due to my freakishly large shoulders. I removed the some of the padding and tried for the bar again.

"Hey! Up in front! Stand still!"

It seems they were showing a sock-puppet rendition of "Everybody Comes to Rick's Cafe Americain" on my back-si... er, back. "Try the Vichy-soir," I said, "it's poisoned," as I pushed my way through to the bar.

Pshrynk was tending to tend bar, behind the, er, bar.

"I'll have a single malt", I called out, and I wedged myself into the bar stool, which seemed a bit small for my liking.

"Chocolate? Or would you like to try vanilla? Oh, and you're trying to sit in snack bowl."

"Whatever the doctor ordered. No, wait, I've been set up before. I'll have the chocolate malt."

"And a hamburger?"

"And a hamburger."

"Are you just going to repeat anything I ask you?"

"And I'm just going to repeat anything you ask me."

"Can I have $50?"

"No."

It was a slow night, even with the bar packed to capacity. I could tell, because the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end. I was guessing several jigga-volts.

I scowled at pshrynk, practicing my Bogey again.

"Nope, still don't look like him," he said.

I sighed and reverted to my normal Bozo the Clown look.

"What's new?" I asked.

The drunk next to me started to answer, but I clubbed him into submission and quickly rifled his pockets, looking for money and spare ammunition. I tipped pshrynk a $20, hoping he would forget the incident.

"Not for $20... gimme the $50"

Damn. I passed an additional $20. I was down $40 and the night was still young. Well, maybe I could still cage some drinks from some shiney out-of-towner... maybe tonight wouldn't be a total loss.

"So, where are you from, anyway," asked pshrynk, innocently.

"I, uh, mmm from out-of-town?" I immediately slammed my mouth shut, even tho my tongue seemed to be door-stop-shaped. Damn, too late. Several people hit me up for drinks. That'd hurt in the morning, but hopefully, there'd be no bruises.

"Well, tell ush about yorself," said the drunk, apparently none-the-worse for the wear. I needed to slink down the bar, fast, before he tried to pay his bill. With the money I'd lifted off him.

Pshrynk, pursed his lips, shook his head, winked, put his finger aside his nose, winked, and continued drying the glass he'd been working on. I'd mention his nervous twitch later, but for now, I think he'd keep my secret.

"Well," I started, "let me start out by saying, 'I'm a man of few words, and I--"

"HA!" There was a collective groan and most everyone turned their back on me. Worked again. I'd never get tired of that trick.

Most everyone. There was a dame at the end of the bar. A frail. A skirt. A babe. A doll. A twist. A kitten. And Zelda. I looked at them all, but only saw Zelda. Time to get the glasses fixed, I think.

"Zel! How are you!"

"Don't call me Zel. Did anyone see you come in?"

The bar hushed expectantly, everyone pausing and listening in my direction.

"No, I think I'm safe. Nobody noticed me."

Not a sound. Everyone straining to get in my business.

"Besides, I'm a man of few words, and--"

They went back to their drinks.

"So, what are you doing with the English Lady, the geriatric patient, the dress, the barbie doll, and the cat. Would you look at the size of that cat!" I panicked and started to duc- nope, didn't catch me with either the sack or the du--- uh, anatidae.

"It's a skirt, not a dress; Barbie is a trade-marked name; that's Lady Birch-smear of Trodden-on-the-Toes; and you forgot to mention the peppermint."

Now, I'm not a peppermint, but I knew when I was licked. "Ok, I give" and handed her the last $10 I had lifted off the drunk.

The drunk had finished his drink and started patting himself down, looking for an elusive $50 that he'd had only a short while ago. He saw me watching him out of the corner of my eye, and he moved around in front of me to make it easier.

"Hey! You loo-ook familiar! Were you here a minit ago?" He looked genuine and confused, and genuinely confused, so I figured I'd help him out. Seems pshrynk wasn't going to let him leave without paying his bar bill, so I quit trying to help.

"No... no, it wasn't me." I've got a knack for lying, as long as no one finds out.

"Welk, you look jus like the fella tha' was stannin nexu me. I was ju's startin' a like him, and then everthing wen black!"

"Ah. Well. It wasn't me."

"You look jus like him! You know? You know tha? You look JUS like him! Iss a mazing. Jus like im."

"Yeah. Nope. Wasn't me. Not me."

"Jus like im." The drunk turned to pshrynk, who had quit drying the glass and put it back into the dirty dish water. "Don' you think 'e looksh jes like 'im?"

"Yeah... maybe. YEAH! He DOES look just like him, now that you mention it!"

The drunk looked at pshrynk for a second, confused. He looked back at me. He looked back at pshrynk. He looked off down the bar, his head bobbing to some gentle, agreeable music no one else could hear. He blinked twice, yawned, and started to look at his watch.

"HEY! My WASH is gon'! Tha' guy! THA' GUY THAT LOOK LIKE YOU! HE STOL' MY WASH!"

Pshrynk was smiling to himself now, mentally trying on the watch I had in my pocket. I could see that this night would be a total loss...

"Um, maybe it was his twin!" piped in Zelda, brightly. I was going to have to buy her at least one drink for this.

"Yeah, his evil twin" agreed pshrynk.

The drunk squinted at me for a second and declared "you don't look like no twin. You don' look like no twin adoll. Wait, are you him?"

Pshrynk's eyes narrowed and he watched us both. He could see time slipping away from him.

"Yeah. That's me. I'm him."

"You're him? You're your own evil twin?"

"Well, evil STEP twin, actually. My mother adopted me."

The drunk raised his eyebrows and blinked again. "Well, don' hang aroun 'im, he'll get you in trouble. Hesh no good..." The drunk bobbed his head a little more, looked at me and smiled. "I like you, you're arrigh..." He clapped me on the shoulder, bobbed again, weaved, stumbled slightly, and smiled benevolently at pshrynk. "Wad I owe ya?"

Pshrynk mentally added up the cost of all the drinks along the bar -- at least the ones he'd already been paid for -- threw in a sizable (usury) tip for himself, and HIS evil twin, announced it to the drunk and started polishing the bar again.

I turned to look at Zelda. This was always embarrassing.

The drunk pulled out a wallet, passed several $50s to pshrynk, adding "heep the change", hickuped and started towards the door.

He got maybe half a step away, whirled drunkenly towards me, and clapped his hands on my shoulders.

He had tears in his eyes. He smiled and said "I like you... I LOVE you, man! You're my besh fren..." He reached in his pocket and pulled out an extra $50, tucked it in my shirt pocket, and lurched for the door.

After I watched his taxi pull away, I wondered to myself... "should he really be driving?" Then I mentally slapped myself around for not checking his other pockets.

"Hey," said pshrynk, "isn't that your wallet?" indicating the space in front of where the drunk had been standing.

This wasn't going to be a good night. I was down a couple of hundred, and the $50 in my pocket was counterfeit.

"Zelda! How'd you like to buy me dinner?" I asked...