Posts Tagged ‘Bartender’
Jul
Standish
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Tyler unfolded from the blue compact. His knees hurt. He had suffered this torture for one reason: to keep Standish quiet…forever.
Ten years as a bartender at the Capital Club, the city’s most prominent private club, provided Standish with enough knowledge to end important careers, marriages, and lives. That knowledge became an opportunity. It needed to be stopped.
Tyler walked in, silenced gun in his coat pocket. Standish was behind the bar. A shot rang out. Tyler crumpled to the floor.
“Thanks, Joe,” Standish said, smiling. A man at the end of the bar nodded, finishing his bourbon.
“Anytime.”
From Guest Contributor Gary M. Zeiss
Oct
Lonely Planet
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Sometime after midnight I stepped into a smoky cellar bar, gave the miserable clientele the once-over, and located an empty stool toward the back. The bartender, a cigarette between his lips, was drying glasses with a dirty rag. In my beret and belted black raincoat, I might have been taken for a fugitive Trotskyite – or perhaps the assassin sent to execute him. A woman slipped onto the next stool. She had a face like that of a 13-year-old girl who died of heart failure following prolonged laughter. “I am here to entertain you,” she said, “but only during my shift.”
From Guest Contributor Howie Good
Howie Good is the author of The Death Row Shuffle (Finishing Line Press, 2020) and The Trouble with Being Born (forthcoming from Ethel Micro-Press).
Dec
The Standard
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Don’t get me started on politics.”
May took a drag from her cigarette and rolled her eyes so only Sal, the bartender, could see.
“All them crooks in Washington robbing the money right out of our pockets. It’s a travesty.”
“If your Pappy was alive, he’d be at the front of the revolution.”
“Damn straight he would be.”
May and Stan started laughing. Bill didn’t seem to mind. He just frowned at his empty cup of coffee.
“Let me get you a refill, Mr. Guthrie.”
She returned with a steaming pot.
“What was I talking about again?”
“Tonight’s baseball game.”
Feb
Happy
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When I was twenty, I had a friend who worked as a bartender. I remember that he hated sports, but that he learned to talk sports in order to get through his nights behind the bar with some civility, and of course to earn tips. And that is how I get through my life, by acting like I give a shit about things that I could care less about, by going through the motions. It generally works pretty well for me. People think that I’m a nice guy. Some have even gone so far as to think that I’m happy.
From Guest Contributor Les Bohem
Nov
The Golden Elixir
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
When the man entered the Golden Elixir, he was the only patron. The name was for both the establishment and the only drink it served.
The bartender greeted him in a friendly manner. “How’d you hear about us?”
The man wasn’t sure what to answer. “I heard rumors that you serve drinks that are…solid gold?”
“That’s true. Would you like to try?”
“Sure, how much?”
“The first one is on the house.” The bartender pulled down a black decanter filled with a gold liquid and poured a glass. The man hesitated, then gulped it down.
The man immediately died.
Oct
Cat And Mouse
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“If I ever see you here again, I’ll kill you.”
So began their game of cat and mouse. Every night, Owen skirted past the Clover Patch, careful never to show his face where O’Riley might see him. O’Riley kept his shotgun under the bar, hoping for the day Owen crossed the bar’s threshold.
Owen lamented he’d never again be able to sip of the island’s best stout. It seemed especially unfair, with him being the bar’s owner and its chief brewer, while O’Riley was just a bartender. Hiring a belligerent alcoholic to tend bar was in hindsight a poor decision.