I had time to kill having dropped stuff off at Staples to be printed so I went to a nearby pub. It was a sunny afternoon so its being empty was no surprise.
The bartender was leaning back against the end of the bar watching TV. He popped to attention when I walked in.
“Hey. How are ya. I’ll take a pint of Sam Adams.”
“Sure thing,” he said without taking his eyes off the Golf Channel.
He placed it down in front of me and said “good luck.”
“Let me ask you, is this the only pub around?”
“Pretty much so. Anywhere else is kind of a drive.”
“Good to know. I just moved here and I’m learning all the critical things; Fire house, hospital, pub…”
“Really? Welcome. Where are you from?”
“Long Island.”
“I have a cousin who lives on Long Island.”
“Is it Brian?”
“What?”
“Is your cousin’s name Brian?”
“No.”
“Oh. I lived near a guy named Brian. I thought maybe that was your cousin.” I took a deep gulp.
He gently shook his head, “…um, no.” He turned back toward the tv but he stared away from it as if something confused him.
“Golf channel?” I asked.
“Yeah. ‘Classic Tournaments’ it’s called.”
A commercial came on.
“Let me ask you, why do all bars have these mirrors behind the liquor bottles?”
He looked at me then the mirror and shrugged his shoulders.
“To be honest, I’m the last person I want to see here. In fact, my looks is one of the reasons why I drink in the first place. Now I have to stare at myself while I’m sitting here.”
God, he wanted that commercial to end.
“Hey, since I have to look in a mirror anyway, you mind if I shave?”
“You’re not shaving in my bar.”
“Hear me out, I could get here earlier if I can shave here instead of at home. I can have an extra pint and you’ll see a tidy profit. Win – win. I’ll put a towel down.” I pantomimed smoothing out a towel on the bar.
“You say you live nearby?”
“Yeah.”
He gazed at me with a blankness only disappointment can provide.
I drummed my knuckles on the bar. “What is this, mahogany?”
He didn’t answer and walked over to the window. His heart longed for someone else to walk in.
“…there was a Diana Ross movie called Mahogany.” I ever so softly sang, “…do you know where you’re going to? Do you find the things that life is showing you? Do you know?”
I saw in the mirror that that got his attention. He had that look of a gym class basketball captain relegated to picking the last kid for his team. And now that kid moved here and is sitting at his bar.
(I was always that kid.)
“I’m John, by the way.”
This is the internationally recognized invitation to introduce yourself – an invitation he declined.
He turned from the window and headed toward the back. “I gotta go put something in the oven.”
My guess was it was his head.