The Blue Bottle Pub

Leandra held back a sigh as she fell into the rickety bar stool. She didn’t know what she was doing here. Around her were men and women alike, drunk out of their minds. Heads drooped over tables, hands loosely grasping the necks of empty bottles. Leandra had never been one for drinking. In her younger days she’d nurse a can of beer at a house party, and that turned into taking polite sips of wine between stuffy conversations. But she had never found herself in a place like this, at a quarter to two in the morning.

Leandra was also not one for superstition. She opened umbrellas carelessly in the lobby of her apartment and didn’t think twice about ducking under a ladder if it saved her some time. Seeing Friday the 13th on a calendar didn’t send a shiver down her spine and breaking a mirror only caused her about five minutes of misfortune. When she had first moved into town, she had heard whispers about The Blue Bottle Pub. The bartenders know things. They’d say, with an air of amazement. They can give you advice that changes your life. Seemed to her like a town down on their luck, clutching at whatever hope they could find. Especially if it came with a bottle.

But Leandra was desperate. Her thoughts had turned from rational to What more do I have to lose? So, she rapped her knuckles on the rough wood of the counter.

“A blue bottle, please.” She muttered, already regretting her choices. A man with a low cap shadowing his face nodded in acknowledgement and headed to the back. Leandra wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work. She just knew the steps.

Step 1: Be down on your luck. Be desperate enough to go to get a stranger’s advice about the biggest decisions in your life. Or stupid enough. Either works.

Step 2: Walk into The Blue Bottle Pub. It has to be after 12am. Desperate times call for a desperate time.

Step 3: Order a blue bottle, the pub's namesake. That was it.

Leandra didn’t know if she was supposed to just sit down and start spouting her life story, or follow the bartender to the back. Maybe it was all just an elaborate joke played on newcomers by a town full of the bored and bitter.

Someone sat down next to her, drawing her attention from the napkin she was fiddling with. A young woman with a dozen piercings in her ears and blinding eye shadow sent her a smile, one that pulled at one side of her lips. Her dreads were carefully arranged under a bandana and her blood red lipstick stood out from her dark skin.

“Hey there, stranger.” She remarked. Leandra merely nodded in return. “Haven’t seen you around here before. You new in town?”

“Yeah, moved here back in March.”

The woman nodded, like she was really thinking it over. “How’s it going for you? I know this town can be…strange to newcomers.”

“It’s fine. Nice place.”

“What brings you to the pub at this hour?”

“I heard a lot about the place. I was curious and couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

She hummed noncommittally. They sat for a few moments in silence, Leandra fiddling nervously with the ring hanging on the chain around her neck. The woman looked at her, tilting her head.

“Something on your mind, stranger?” Her voice was light, but her eyes were suddenly serious. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

Leandra started to shake her head, but stopped herself. She really was desperate. “I just…have a problem on my hands. Two options. Neither are good. Don’t know which to choose.” Her fingers went towards her neck again, and she jerked them back to the napkin in front of her.

The woman looked thoughtfully at her. Then up to one of the mounted deer heads on the wall. She tilted her head at it, like they were having a silent conversation. She tapped her finger on her chin. Once. Twice. “Your options…one makes you happy, one doesn’t, I assume?”

Leandra raised her eyebrows.

The woman shared a small smile with her. “Typically, most problems have those two choices.”

Leandra didn’t nod, but her expression confirmed it nonetheless.

“One makes you happy, one doesn’t. But it will make someone else happy.” This time it wasn’t even a question, it was a statement. “Maybe you love them, you feel like you need to make them happy. You might even love them more than yourself.” She said this thoughtfully, like it wasn’t a sentence that carried an enormous amount of weight. Her easy smile had settled into a serious expression that changed every feature of her face. “But you have to take yourself into account too. Can you live with your decision, if you force yourself into a lifetime of unhappiness? I think you tend to put everyone else’s feelings over yours. You know, you’re allowed to put yourself first sometimes, stranger.”

Leandra's mouth open and closed. The truth and plain facts that were suddenly right in front of her had rendered her speechless. The woman was casually inspecting her lipstick in a compact mirror, like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her. Leandra reached for her necklace once again, looking at the ring carefully. She knew what she was going to do.

“Thank you.” She said, looking directly at the woman.

Her easy smile had returned. “My pleasure, stranger.”

Leandra found a slight grin tugging at her lips. She reached into her purse and pulled out a few bills, slapping them on the counter. “I ordered a drink earlier, but I don’t need it anymore. It’s yours. On me.”

Her eyes sparkled, grin widening. “Aw, shucks. Thanks.”

Leandra whisked herself out of the pub, sending a small wave over her shoulder.

The man with the cap emerged from the back, a shining blue bottle in hand. He raised his eyebrows at the pile of money next to the grinning woman.

“Jules, you’re here early.” He remarked.

She shrugged. “Just waiting for my shift to start.”

He glanced at the cash on the counter, then the drink in his hand. “I presume this is yours then?”

Jules laughed. “You know it. Took another one of your clients. You take too damn long to make those drinks.”

He guffawed, placing the bottle roughly in front of her and reaching under the counter for a beer. “Taught you well, huh?”

“That you did, Tom.” She held up her drink in a toast. “To us. And The Blue Bottle Pub.”

They drank.