The Unexpected Pub Crawl

I usually don't mind working behind the bar, but tonight was an exception. My eight-year-old daughter and I had a standing date on Christmas mornings at the city ice rink, and I planned on getting a good night's sleep so I'd have energy for it tomorrow.

Being the owner, though, means I can decide how late to stay open. I didn't expect a big crowd tonight. I could be home and in bed by 11. My three regulars, the only customers in the place, should be gone around 10, and I'd finished the nightly cleanup already.

So, after filling a bowl of pretzels and topping off their drinks, I leaned on the bar, watching the game with them. Until my phone buzzed. 

"Hi, it's Jennifer, from Crawlz. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time."

I vacantly assured her she wasn't while I watched my team try to score. "How's it going?" I asked.

"Oh, fine," She sounded out of breath. "Would you mind if I stopped by in a few minutes?"

My team missed, but my attention was now on the phone. Jennifer ran a pub tour through the downtown bars, but she rarely brought them to my place. It had been months since I'd seen her last. I'd always thought she was cute, but I wasn't looking for a romantic interest right now.

"Uh, sure," I said, ambling down to the end of the bar. "It's pretty quiet here."

"That's great," she replied, sounding relieved. "I'm only down the street. Ten minutes, tops."

We clicked off and I glanced at the time. 9:04. I mused briefly why she'd be out this late on Christmas Eve, then went back to the game.

Fifteen minutes later, I heard the door open. A line of men traipsed in, bringing along a chilling gust of air. My regulars glanced towards the door, muttering about the bad weather. I grew increasingly annoyed as more and more dirty, wet snow appeared on my clean floor.

"Could somebody please shut that?" I shouted.

One of the men approached the bar. He was short, graying, and wore a red cap knitted with a pattern of holly leaves. "Sure, mate, just give them a minute. They're not as fast as they used to be." He gave me a wide grin.

"How many in your group?" I asked, watching my bar fill up with people.

"Twenty-five." Jennifer came through the door, closing it behind her. "I'm so glad you were able to take us," she added as she removed her gloves. "I didn't realize our last stop was closed for a Christmas party. You're a lifesaver!"

My jaw dropped. "This is one of your pub crawls?"

"Uh huh. A last minute booking. I don't usually take them this time of the year due to the weather, but this one was special."

"Hey, Jennifer!" A guy in a striped hat approached the bar. "We've lost three. They must have missed the turn off Main."

Jennifer turned and counted her charges. "You're right. Have they got phones? I'll give them a call with directions."

"No, ma'am. I'm the only one with a phone tonight," Holly-Hat said.

Jennifer sighed. "Would you mind if I ducked out to find them? It shouldn't take too long.” Without waiting for my reply, she turned towards the door. "Be right back!"

I surveyed the situation. The room thronged with short men. Some were making themselves comfortable, taking off their coats. Others lined up expectantly at the bar like children in front of Santa Claus.

My regular customers, shifting their stools to make way for the crowd, watched while sipping their beers. I cleared my throat. "Good evening," I began.

"Evening!" "Howdy!" "Hullo there!" came the multitude of responses.

I waited until the hubbub died down, then tried again. "Welcome! We have three specials tonight: a snickerdoodle martini with vodka and caramel sauce, a white Russian, and a Santa Clausmopolitan. What can I start you off with?"

The room immediately hushed. I got the feeling I said something wrong. Confused, I glanced over at my regulars, who shrugged and went back to the game.

The newcomers whispered. Eventually, someone in the back spoke up. "Do ya have any eggnog?"

"Yeah, or hot cocoa?" asked another.

Surprised, I almost said no. Eggnog wasn't a popular mixer so there were only a couple half-gallons in the fridge. But I did have a big box of instant cocoa in my office. It’d been in my way for over a year. Did instant cocoa have an expiration date?

"I'll go check," I smiled. The chatter volume instantly returned to normal.

Retrieving the box, I checked one of the packages. The expiration date had passed a month ago. But it said "best by" next to the date, so I figured it was still good.

I set the coffee maker to heat water and worked out a drink price in my head, my conscious warring with my business sense. I should be nice and offer them a Christmas discount. But business hasn't been great lately and my divorce wiped out my savings.

Still, these guys probably wanted spiked cocoa and eggnog because they needed to save money. If that was the case, they probably wouldn't be big tippers, either, reducing my chance for a reasonable profit.

Furthermore, this changed my plan to close early. My “inconvenience charge” should apply. I glanced up at the mirror behind the bar. The newcomers crowded around the bar, watching me and jostling each other. I'd have to stay open long enough for them to have a couple of drinks, but it was still possible to close a little earlier than normal.

I turned around. "All right, the chocolate and eggnog drinks have the same special price as the others. So, what do you want in your cocoa?"

"Marshmallows!" yelled one man.

"Whipped cream!" shouted another.

"Nothing in mine, thanks," came another.

"I'll take the eggnog," said Holly Hat.

"You want rum in it?" I asked, surprised that no one asked for whiskey or schnapps.

"Just eggnog, please." I heard several assents and saw some nods, so I filled a tray of glasses and set it on the bar.

"Where's the cocoa?" demanded a guy in a snowflake hat.

"Coming right up," I said, reaching for mugs. I thought they might be a church group that disavowed alcohol. But then why would they be on pub crawl?

A few more of them tore off their coats. "It's hot in here," said a man in a hat with jingle bells. "Yeah, we need some air!" his companion agreed. Jingle-bells opened the front door, placing a chair against it to keep it open.

I put a tray of hot cocoas on the bar. "Could you please close that? Fire regulations," I added when I received dirty looks.

The door closed. More coats appeared on tables. My regulars got up, threw some bills on the bar, and wished me a merry Christmas as they walked out. The newcomers quickly filled their void.

"What's taking so long?"

"Yeah, where's my cocoa?"

I restarted the coffee machine, ignoring the question. Two guys at the end of the bar were fighting over the tv remote control. "I'll take that," I said, reaching out a hand.

They looked at me in surprise, then one of them clicked to the Yule Log channel. "We just wanted to put something better on," he said, politely handing me the device.

I put it on a shelf under the bar and filled another tray with glasses of eggnog. The noise increased. Some of the guys found the darts. Unfortunately, they were throwing them at a wreath on the wall instead of the dart board.

"Please don't do that! The dart board is over there," I shouted.

"Could I have another eggnog?"

I continued lining up another round of mugs and opening packets of chocolate. Wishing I had some help, I pondered Jennifer’s absence. Had she purposefully ditched me with this group of old leprechauns?

I checked my phone but it was only 9:30. It’d only seemed like she’d been gone hours.

A few minutes later, everyone had a drink and was having a good time. A group at the front window exploded with laughter; somebody liked telling jokes.

Jennifer returned with her charges in tow. She helped brush snow off their shoulders before bringing them to the bar, leaving a wet puddle by the door. "Three more of whatever you're serving," she announced merrily.

"Can you give me a hand?" I asked, pouring the remainder of my first eggnog container into clean glasses.

"Sure!"

I showed her where to put her coat and gave a quick demonstration on how to make hot water. Then I slipped into the back to get more eggnog. When I returned, she had a trivia game going with the group at the bar.

"Mind telling me who's paying for all this?" I asked discretely while she waited for the trivia answers.

She dug into her pocket and produced a credit card. "This belongs to the man with the holly on his hat," she said. "He wants everything charged to it."

I took the card over to my cash register, relaxing a little when I found out it was good.

"Thanks," I said as I put the card in a glass by the register. She nodded, read off another trivia question, then began making more hot chocolate.

I stepped closer to avoid being overheard. "Who are these guys? Part of a convention?"

"It's a bachelor party, I think. But the guest of honor hasn't shown yet."

My eyes narrowed. Bachelor parties were always messy. If I'd known this when she'd called, I would've refused to let them come. "They aren't expecting anything else, are they?"

"No. They've been mellow all night." She flashed me a smile and picked up an empty tray. "Looks like we're out of mugs. I'll go collect the dirties."

She left, passing a man wearing a hat with blinking lights. "What happened to the eggnog?" he said, staggering into his friends.

"You've already had too much eggnog," a guy sniggered, pushing Blinky away.

"Naw, I'm just getting started!" Blinky replied, pushing back. Somebody threw a punch, and before I could stop them, they were fighting.

"Hey, not in here guys!" I yelled. The others gathered in a circle around them, giving advice and egging it on. Jennifer stood to the side, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Break it up!" I shouted, pushing my way through.

But Holly Hat got to the troublemakers first. "Here, we'll have none of that going on. If you're heated up, go outside for awhile." He grabbed the back of Blinky's shirt, pulling the men apart. "Settle down now. Drinks are on me!"

They all cheered, queuing again at the bar. I saw another line forming in front of the restrooms. As I watched, one man left the ladies' room and another entered. Now I’d have to clean it, too, when they left.

Resigned, I took a deep breath. It was warm in here. Making my way back to the bar, I noticed all the men had their coats off, now, but, oddly, none of them had removed their hats.

Jennifer loaded the dishwasher and we resumed filling and serving. As the night wore on, the men entertained themselves with drinking games while a trio belted out bawdy songs.

At ten, Jennifer grabbed her coat. "Thanks for everything," she said as she put on her gloves.

"You're not leaving!"

But she was already at the door. "Sorry! I have to get home to help my husband wrap gifts for the kids. I won't forget how great you've been!"

The door slammed. But the men showed no interest in following.

I wondered if I’d be stuck here all night.

At 10:30, I ran out of eggnog and had to start stretching the cocoa out to a packet for every two glasses. The men didn't seem to notice. In fact, if I hadn’t known better, I'd’ve sworn they were drunk. I suspected that they’d brought flasks, since I hadn't added liquor to the drinks.

On a hunch, I filled several bowls with pretzels and took them around to the tables, paying attention to hands, looking for guys sneaking stuff into their mugs. Not finding anything suspicious, I made a quick trip into both the restrooms to check for signs of drugs or cigarette use.

Nothing.

When I returned to the bar, I passed two guys with their heads on a table, snoring. I pointed them out to Holly Hat, who waved it off. "Ah, they be all right," he said with a slur. "Let 'em sleep. 'Snot often we get a night to ourselves."

"Oh? What is it you do?" I asked.

"Construction," he replied. "Got any more eggnog?"

"I'm afraid we're out." I glanced at my phone. 10:45. "It's almost closing time, anyway. Want a hot cocoa for the road?"

A hush came over the room again, like I'd said something wrong.

"Closing time, you say?" Blinky stepped up to the bar, swinging an empty mug.

I nodded. "At eleven. It's Christmas Eve," I reminded, hoping they'd catch the hint.

Holly Hat and Blinky turned to two others and started whispering. "But the Big Guy hasn't showed up yet," I heard Blinky say. "We could lock 'em in his office," said another.

Holly Hat called over his shoulder. "Kin you stay open just a wee bit longer?" he asked.

I frowned. On the one hand, I'd made a pretty good profit on the drinks they'd bought, and no one had gotten sick or torn up the place. But I promised my daughter that I'd pick her up on time this year. I really didn't want to stay open much longer.

Holly Hat noticed my hesitation. "We'll give you a hand with the cleanup," he offered. The others looked at me expectantly.

Crossing my arms across my chest, it suddenly occurred to me that there were twenty-five of them and only one of me. If they all decided they wanted me locked in my office...

"All right. You can stay until twelve. But then I have to close, even if your friend doesn't show up."

The men cheered. It was as if I gave them permission to party. Somebody pulled out a harmonica and another guy started playing a flute. A large group pushed the tables to one side and many of them began dancing.

I cringed at the sound of glass breaking and went to the back for the broom and dustpan. When I returned, a couple of guys were doing some crazy acrobatics. I attributed their feat to their size, but maybe working in the construction industry gave them a lot of flexibility. I also noticed somebody had made origami stars out of a stack of napkins and stuck them to the front window.

Leaving the stars, I swept up a broken pretzel bowl, then began cleaning the area behind the bar. Every few minutes, I checked the time on the cash register. At 11:50, I shut off the coffee machine. "Ten minutes," I warned.

This time they'd have to go. I’d thought it through. If they refused to leave at midnight, I'd call the cops for backup.

To my surprise, however, the party stopped when the clock turned twelve. The men put on their coats and filed out the door, wishing me happy holidays as they passed.

I was too tired to remind them they’d promised to clean up. Following Holly Hat to the door, I accepted his thanks graciously and expressed my sympathy for his detained friend.

"Ah, 'twill be fine, we really didn't expect he'd show. It’s our only night off, so he has to work extra hard. But we know he's with us in spirit."

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Short guys in Christmas clothes who get drunk on eggnog and hot cocoa. Was there a reason none of them wanted to take off their hats?

Unfortunately, Holly Hat noticed me peering closely at his ears. "Merry Christmas!" He winked and disappeared into the dark, laughing heartily.

I locked the door and closed my eyes for a moment of silent consideration. Then I shook my head and smiled.

Nope. They were just a group of men who'd gotten together for a pub crawl on Christmas Eve.

With a sigh, I turned, mentally preparing for at least an hour of cleaning. Only then did I realize that the napkins had disappeared from the front window.

With a sharp intake of breath, I wheeled around. The tables and chairs were back in their rightful spots. The dirty mugs, napkins and pretzel bowls were gone, and the floors were clean and slightly damp as if they'd just been swept and mopped.

Checking behind the bar, I found the sink and dishwasher empty and the glasses sparkling on their shelves. Even the garbage was gone!

I blinked. Had I imagined it? Were there really twenty-five men partying in my bar only a few minutes ago? There seemed to be no evidence of their visit.

Then I remembered the credit card. I'd forgotten to give it back to Holly Hat! Quickly, I reached for the glass next to the cash register.

But the credit card was gone. In its place were hundred-dollar bills, lots of them, filling the pint glass and overflowing the top.

I touched them. Yes, they were real. I held one up to the light, checking the security ribbon and color-changing ink. They weren't counterfeit!

I shook my head, staring at the pile of cash in awe. This wasn't my imagination.

But elves on a Christmas Eve pub crawl? Then again, why not?