It was Thursday. She sat on the bar stool waiting. They didn’t arrive yet and this was worrying. Not that something had happened to them, but the later they came the later they went. The later they left, the more they drank. The more they drank, the longer her shift lasted.

Mr. Thursday, the self proclaimed leader, and his gang weren’t dangerous. They weren’t that bad really. They were more like toddlers with a licence to drink.

They were loud, they were demanding, they were uncontrollable. A tantrum here and there, emotions all over the place and constantly admiring women’s tits. Toddlers. She, on the other hand, was a cranky twenty something year old with a poorly placed chip on her shoulder.

For a few months, she hated them, but time passed and she placed her chip down long enough to listen. Those were some of the greatest stories she ever heard. At first they sounded fake. I mean Thursday was a stunt guy? He’s a tech and IT guy now. And little-big man a romantic? If he smiled ever after the first beer.

There was also the nice 30 year old, who was once, in that very pub, arrested by the cops after another guy took a beating. Long story. The thug? He was actually really shy. Who knew?

Time passed and she listened and laughed. Like that one story when they ran over thug with a car and took him to a pediatrician. Well it wasn’t a vet at least. Time passed and she somehow became part of their story. She became the girl behind the bar.

There was a time when they were great friends. It didn’t matter what bar she worked at, they came. When she needed cheering up, they we there. When they needed a beer and a shoulder to cry on, she was there.

But then time passed, and lives changed. She no longer works by the bar. They no longer go to pubs every Thursday. Life moved on beyond that moment. The moment when everything was funny or sad. Life happened, and every day they are getting further and further away from that moment.

It was a moment, just a moment, when she was the girl behind the bar.


One thought on “The Girl behind the Bar

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s