Misery's Company

The bar filled with drunken cheers pays little mind to the moping men who hide on the dim side of the table. Most of the occupants watch the TV with fervor and thrust their glasses in the air whenever their football team scores. All their glee swirls together creating quite the scene. To them, everything else is solely background noise in their busy life, including the feeble golden glow that reaches the far side of the room. The light illuminates the lone detective slumped on the table in front of him. He never took off the heavy brown coat that is damp from the snowflakes scattered on the shoulders and his blonde hair is still tousled from the harsh winds outside. The only person who dared approach the palpable gloom was the bartender who held a cold bottle in his hand. With a thunk, the bartender placed the bottle next to the detective’s head. It wasn’t until the somber man looked up; he noticed the tiny green umbrella sticking out of the top. 

“Usually, someone drinking this much is in a great mood or a terrible one. Tell me which are you?” the bartender asked, oblivious to the unpleasant expression that fell on the detective’s face when being addressed. 

“The latter.” The detective answered while flicking the umbrella from the bottle. 

“And why is that friend?” The other man inquired, ignoring the glare he received in response. 

“Long night.” The detective stated. 

“I feel ya, game days like this are always so hectic!” The bartender chatted. He grabbed the back of an empty wooden chair and pulled it back to sit in. 

“Maybe you should get back to work then.” 

“Oh, it’s my dinner break don’t worry about it!” 

“It’s 8 pm…” 

“Never too late for a sandwich!” The bartender finished with a cheery smile. He plopped down on the vacant chair and started unwrapping a sandwich. He took enough care not to rip the paper and set it down next to him. He watched the detective drop his head back on the table with a defeated groan. “The name’s Colby. Yours?” 

With his face still on the table the other man grumbled, “Grayson.” 

“Ha! My great grandpa had the same name,” Colby chuckled through the mouthful of food in his mouth. An easy silence fell over the two as he finished his meal. After another bout of yelling from the crowded side of the bar he decided to attempt another conversation. This time with a bit more seriousness in his tone. “Y’know there’s a lot of people who just come to the bar to wallow. I don’t blame you, we all have bad days but if you want to talk.” He paused, leaving his offer in the air.

“No.” 

“I- okay well then I will. Yesterday, there was this guy who came in. He was a bit like you but more depressing. After he saw a little umbrella I put in his drink, the dude just started bawling. He then started ranting to me about how his girl left him. At first, I thought you were having girl problems too, but I can tell you haven’t had the girlfriend effect yet.” 

The detective finally looked over at his talkative companion. “That what?” 

“After my first girl, I suddenly started caring about my looks and all that. I swear after everyone’s first relationship they get a mad glow up.” Colby continued. He was borderline ranting at his point, but it seems to have worked because he finally caught the attention of the man before him. 

“Ah no, I haven’t had a relationship since high school.” Grayson started at last looking Colby in the eye. 

“I could drink to that!” Colby laughed “Tell me, was that relationship so bad that you’re still drinking three bottles a night?”

“Ha ha,” The detective sarcastically laughed, “If it was, I’d drink a lot more than three. I’m barley buzzed.”

“What is it then? Loneliness?” Colby went on. 

“No,” Grayson said with a quiet but real chuckle “Work stuff.” 

“You’re so cryptic man! What’s going on at work? I want to know the details. The bartender knows all.” Colby taunted leaning forward. 

“I can’t get too specific but I’m working a case.” Grayson said. With a prompting look from the other man, he continued. “It’s a series of robberies, each one stealing an item more valuable. The last few heists have left me with astoundingly angry clients wailing over their irreplaceable art pieces, stolen from under their noses. Whenever I get to the scene of the robberies there is little to go off of. The person I’m chasing always leaves a tiny trail of bread crumbs but all of them are dead ends. It’s like they’re teasing me.” 

“That does sound irritating.” Colby commented as he became more invested in the conversation. 

“I’m not going to lie, I’m about to give up on it all. I’ve been considering leaving this line of work for a while now.” The detective admitted falling back into the gloom he was swallowed in. 

“Why? That's such a cool job and I’m sure it took ages to get to that position.” Colby remarked. 

“It’s frustrating beyond words. When I was a rookie, time flew by and I was on a new case every month. Now that I’ve been put on the more challenging cases my productivity plummeted and time seems to move like molasses.” Grayson moped. The bartender gave a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and spurred the detective to start venting. “This case could have been my big break. Solving it would be just the thing I need to put my name on the captain’s desk and move up to the position of Lieutenant! Somehow after sacrificing every hour of every day to this case, I’m still at square one. I’ve been chasing this guy’s tail for ages and all I’ve got to show for it is records of the items he’s stolen! Just two days ago he stole from that mansion on Calci Street. I’ve already followed all the clues and came up with nothing!” 

“Calci Street? I heard about that.” Colby said mostly to himself. “A cop came in yesterday complaining about it. Said something about chasing a short guy around the back of the house.” 

“What?” Grayson perked up and his eyes became trained to Colby’s. They inspected his face for any hint of deception but was only met with a friendly tilt of Colby’s head. “I was never briefed about that.” 

“He told me the guy jumped from the first story window and dashed through the garden like a madman.”

“Those footsteps,” The detective muttered. Suddenly he jumped up from his chair sending it clattering to the floor. The former morose man looked more excited than anyone in the bar when he looked back at his new friend. “You, oh my god, you just gave me a lead!” He laughed. 

With a slightly confused smile Colby saluted the detective and sarcastically said “It’s a pleasure to be of service.”

Grayson barreled on, “They trailed down the street toward the train station! There was only one more train scheduled to leave that night,” He pulled out his phone and aggressively opened the internet. “It goes into the suburban areas. I can look at security footage and find the perpetrator!” 

Colby watched the man hurriedly collect his things and step away from the table. Grayson stumbled a bit in his excitement but paused when he caught the bartender’s eye. 

“Thank you! I think you just saved my career.” He said with a smile that brightened up his entire face. 

“Once you catch that guy I want to hear the whole story, top to bottom.” Colby ordered. 

“You can count on it!” Grayson replied. He left a hefty tip next to the abandoned green umbrella and waved a thankful goodbye to his friend. The detective finally rushed out of the bar, weaving through the diminishing crowd of people in the room. The cold night air shocked his senses, but nothing could deter the exhilaration of the hunt as Grayson practically sprinted to the police station.