The Bar at the end of Infinity

I loved working at that little bar. It was a hole in the wall at the end of a road that went on forever. It was so far out of town that very few even knew it was there, most just stumbled upon it when it was meant to be. It was quiet, clean and dark. I knew the locals and they trusted me to supply them with their usual until they slipped into an early morning coma.

So naturally I thought it impossible. Never in the ten or more years that I have covered the midnight shift had we seen a pub crawl. As the clock ticked over to three in the morning of Independence Day I heard it though. The distinct sound of a bus pulling up outside, they had found the bar at the end of Infinity, those quiet shifts that I enjoyed so much were suddenly over. I could hear the din as they approached but nothing could prepare me for what I was about to witness. The doors burst open and a gaggle from a Hen’s party strutted in. The lead two wore sashes in lilac with a bolded hot pink text announcing they were The Bridesmaids. Both blonde, possibly sisters I could not differentiate between them. Like bees the two blondes covered the distance from door to bar in four Amazonian strides. Third through the door looked to be the Mother of the Bride, hair the color of flame and eyes the ocean blue to cool the fire above. She looked to be double the age of the first two and I only needed to check her sash to confirm my suspicions. The mother scanned the bar looking for trouble. Her eagle eyes penetrated all the dark spots before she spied me. As our eyes met she smiled and then came forward purposefully. I wanted to tell her to turn around and walk away but by the time she had reached the bar it was already too late.

“Line up the drinks son! This is our last stop!” call the red head, just as her daughter stumbled in behind her. I just nodded to show I understood. I didn’t have the heart to tell her just how right she was.

The Bride-to-Be was long legged, pretty in a business like way and obviously tipsy. A veil was perched atop a beehive of that same flaming red hair but at a fortyish degree angle. It covered half her face but could not hide the bloodshot nature of her deep green eyes. She bounced between a pair of girls that could have been cousins, enough similar features betrayed distant family connections.

At the mum’s command I rummaged high and low seeking champagne flutes as more of the bus’ load poured into the usually quiet bar.

“No lad! Shots… Lots of ‘em!” demanded the lady.

“And… And… Aaaannnnnnnndddddd… Biggest glasses you’ve got!” added one of the bridesmaids.

I gave up my search for flutes, having found none and gently put back the bottle of sparkling white that looked like it was a hundred years old. The gaggle dragged a stool each up to the bar as I fished out and dusted off a jam jar for each of them. Then I started to pour.

I began with a Love Potion for the lady of the hour and a Witch’s Brew for her mum. The other ladies all looked on longingly as the concoctions bubbled and frothed over the lips of both glasses. For the rest I whipped up A Frog on a Log, A Bear in the Woods and A Shark in the Dark. I watched as they all vanished like water, not the highly potent cups of arcana mixed to perfection by a sorcerer of spirits.

“Ladies, perhaps you may wish to slow your consumption?” I suggested. The responsible drinking message had been drummed into me as of day one of starting my favorite occupation.

“Just keep the magic coming lad, top those glasses!” cackled the Mother of the Bride as her daughter slipped slowly floorward.

“Should we be telling them?” Old man McGee asked, suddenly approaching the bar.

“Too late…” I whispered and waved McGee back to his usual table. The old dwarf nodded and waddled back to the darkest of the dark corners. As he passed by the lady of the moment he paused and shook his shaggy head in sadness.

Meanwhile I kept pouring and the drinks kept disappearing. A Laughing Hyena caused one of the party to crack up, a Firecracker perked up the bride to be before the Brain Bender had her back on the floor again. I hesitated when a couple of the girls asked about toilets but knew they would all need to head through that door eventually. As the girls opened that door marked AMENITIES the bright florescent lights disturbed the darkness. The locals raised a glass as the girls flowed through in twos and threes, never to return.

As the clock behind the bar showed 5 in the morning there was only mum at the bar and her daughter asleep at her feet.

“Shouldn’t you check on her?” I asked.

“She’ll sleep it off and be fine for the big day tomorrow,” replied the older red head as she sipped her latest drink, finally slowing down.

There would be no big day but the mother and daughter were both in no fit condition to hear such news.

“If you’re so certain I might check on the bus driver then,” I said as I slipped out from my station.

Outside the bar I could see dawn approaching, the dull grey of early morning enough to show me the carnage. The front end of the bus looked like it had fought with a forest and taken heavy losses. As I made my way around the perimeter I discovered the little hatchback sticking out the left side where the luggage bay had previously been. I tapped on the rear windshield of the tiny car.

“Are you ladies alright in there?” I called, concerned.

“Where are we young man?” asked the quite confused driver after she vigorously wound down the driver side window.

“The bar at the end of Infinity, ma’am,” I replied courteously. In my ten years I had witnessed a few confused arrivals.

“Some infinity bar, Doris,” the driver told her passenger. “The handsome young man here is inviting us in for a drink.

“Oh goodies!” came the muffled response and I heard the doors open.

The bus driver was a little harder to get inside. Some people just knew when their end was upon them.

“I’m fine just here son,” stated the driver, his eyes reflecting the final moment as the old ladies t-boned him at the intersection and sent the double decker careering into the trees. I had to leave him for Bob’s shift when he took over at six.

I assisted the elderly girls to a table and found them a gin and tonic. I was unsure if they’d be there when my next shift started but I hoped so, from initial impressions I liked them a lot. Then all that was left was the countdown to knock off. Red was still where I had left her, once again her daughter was with her precariously perched. Both seemed just another drink away from never waking again.

“One last one before we go… Got to get to the church on time…” mumbled the younger of the women. I took my time and carefully created A Black Cat on a Witch’s Broomstick and a Groom without a Bride. With great pride I looked on as the two drinks did their job. Eventually I was hoping both mother and daughter would realize their party had stumbled into the end of their world. Until they uncovered the truth or accidentally walked into the light they would be stuck just like McGee and those others I called locals.

As for me, six in the morning I clocked off, spread my wings and ascended. Some nights are tough working at the bar at the end of everything. That night had been tougher than most.