Lessons from the bar

Thank god it ain’t happy hour. 

The last customer was about to close his tab. The man stood up from the old wooden stool at the counter and staggered as he struggled to stand still. His head was weary from an extensive night of drinking. Too many beers before closing time. Three empty bottles rested at the countertop and another one lay broken on the floor after he dropped one an hour ago when he was slapped harshly by a young woman. What were they fighting about? I had no idea. All I knew is that she left soon afterwards in tears running as she exited the bar. 

I was done with the night. My shift was about to end and I was anxious to go home. Too many drunk men in one night really can make a woman go crazy. While cleaning an old empty glass mug I looked up at the metal clock my boss kept up on the wall. The time read 11:23 PM. 

‘Only twenty-two more minutes,’ I told myself as I continuously wiped the now clean mug. ‘Just a bit longer ‘till I can leave this crazy joint.’ 

I wanted to get out. It was Christmas eve and I deserved to be with the ones I loved. My father was probably at home telling some crazy story to my grandparents and my mother most likely had to be sitting in a corner drinking and grumbling why her only daughter was missing out on family for a night shift at a local bar. I did feel bad, but it wasn’t my fault! I needed money and college was getting too expensive to afford. I wasn’t like my older brother. The man was a genius, a real Einstein! He got a full ride to Yale University when he was just seventeen years old and is now about to finish graduate school and receive a degree in political international relations where soon hopes to become an international diplomat for the United States. 

As for me, the daughter of two pure Texan-born Republicans with a perfect older brother? I’m just struggling trying to pay my college tuition off. I never knew what I wanted to be nor what my future would be like. I just enrolled at Richland University expecting something to jump out. Instead, I’m stuck with paying tuition costs at a cheap bar living in a small dorm room two hours from my parent’s house. These thoughts circled my mind as the dirty rag in my hand now began to wipe muck onto the glass. Now the once clean mug in my hand was starting to become dirty again. As I dazed in and out of my mind, I forgot to notice my boss calling my attention. 

“Emma! Emma!” the man shouted at me his voice getting louder each time he spoke. 

“Huh?” I cried out nearly dropping the mug in my hands.  

“What are you doing!” he complained to me. “You’re just making the thing dirtier than it already was!” 

“Sorry!” I cried out, hoping for some sympathy from the bossy bald man.  

“Also, I need you to stay an extra ten minutes.” 

“What!” I cried out sharply, this time dropping the glass but managed to catch the container before it smashed against the floor. My golden blonde hair toppled down to my face as I rose back up.  

“First of all,” my boss started to say. “If you break that glass it comes out of your paycheck. Second, it’s only ten more minutes so don’t whine about it!” 

“but...but...” I stammered. “My shift's supposed to end at forty-five!” 

“Yeah... but Matthew just called in. Said he’d be about ten minutes late!” 

Matthew! That bastard! He’s always running late and I end up having to cover for him. The young man was selfish and always full of himself. Everyday he’d try to hit on me with some cheesy pick-up line and acting as if he ruled the world. No matter what, he was such a douchebag.  

 “Fine,” I said defeatedly. 

“Not like you had a choice,” he exclaimed as he proudly exited the room. 

The one drunk customer was still here. He chuckled. “Youshouldbe... a bit... more conshiderate!” he said hazily, his words slurring as he struggled to speak basic English.  

“And you should stop drinking considering you can’t even speak proper English you old fart!” I quickly snapped back at him. 

He looked startled for a second. Then his gaze dropped from one of disbelief to one of stupidity. “You know whats... I don’t desherve this kinda treatsment!”  

And with that he turned around and imprudently lumbered out of the bar, but not before walking into two wooden posts and knocking over a stool. 

“I’m all right! I’m alllll right!” he shouted as he left. 

“Serves him right,” I whispered to myself. I looked back up at the clock which now read 11:27. “Just a bit longer.”  

It was 11:38 when the front door opened again. 

‘Crap!’ 

Three more guys walked in. But immediately I could tell they were newcomers. Not just to the bar, but to the entire Lone Star State. They were no Texans. Believe me, growing up with outback parents in rural Texas, I knew everything there was about being from this side of the country. 

These guys looked like tourists from another planet. 

Or maybe they came from Seattle in Washington. All three were bundled in layers of large sweaters and jackets even though it was only fifty-five degrees outside. Two of the men came in with scarves wrapped around their long necks and wool gloves the size of oven mitts. As they pulled off their fine assortment of winter gear, I tried to gather a larger idea of where they were from-my guess was still on the Northwest.  

One of the men looked up at me and smiled. His teeth were white as snow and very straight. He obviously took great care into his looks. His face looked around thirty-five or forty, the others looked about the same. He seemed to give off a friendly vibe, but I wasn’t much in the mood for a new friend. I just wanted to go. 

“Welcome,” I said cheerfully. I could hear it in my voice that I sounded like an act. I hoped they didn’t notice so I just continued. “Can I help you gentlemen?” 

The one who smiled stepped forward. After taking off all his winter garments, he looked very slim and slightly built with pale skin. He obviously wasn’t used to much sun. ‘Why yes,” he began to say. “Thank you for asking miss.” His voice was very high-pitched. “My colleagues and I were just on our way to see relatives when we wanted to stop in for a drink.” 

“Great! Well what’ll it be?” 

He stopped and pondered the question. “Let’s see... well... how about...” He obviously didn’t have an answer. He turned around briefly and looked at his companions hoping they made up their minds. Sadly, they were just as confused as he was. He turned back around and an apologetic face towards me. “I’m sorry, it appears we haven't decided yet. We might be a bit.” 

“Please,” I said through a voice mixed with impatience and politeness. “Take all the time you want.” 

“It’s funny actually,” he continued. “We’re actually secretly visiting our family without them knowing. We wanted to surprise them for Christmas since it’s been so long.” He sat down on a stole at the bar right across from me. 

‘Oh great,’ I thought to myself. ‘Another customer tale.’ I had no interest nor the time to be intrigued by another stranger’s life story. I just wanted to get going. I’d been working since three o’clock today and haven’t had a true break yet. Not only that, due to school and winter break, I’ve had to work every day this week just to make some extra cash. I was in no mood to listen to someone else’s boring life. 

To my pleasant surprise, I found his story to be quite interesting. Turns out his name was Mark and came from Portland in Oregan, so I was close enough in my guess. The two men behind him were his younger brothers and all three were military veterans who each served two years under the United States army stationed in Europe. After service, they returned home where Mark devoted most of his time to shelter work for the homeless crises facing his hometown. His two brothers, who were around eight years younger than Mark, went back to school and finished college. Mark told me how most of his family was mainly from Texas and Mississippi and he left largely because he couldn't stand the overpowered heat in the summer and moved to Portland with his two brothers. He claimed he hadn’t seen his parents nor grandparents in years and was starting to get homesick. He and his brothers booked a flight down to Dallas, but it was cancelled to snow forcing them to spend two nights in the airport. While sleeping, a thief tried to drag away one of their suitcases, but Mark’s brother John saw the act and immediately started chasing the man. The thief eventually dropped the baggage and fled but John didn’t care. He tackled the man but soon realized the man looked quite homeless and needy. His appearance made it clear. John soon felt sorry for the man and instead of turning him to authorities, he gave the man fifty dollars and told him to spend it in any way possible that would make him happy. The man looked quite shocked and started to cry.  

“John’s a good man,” Mark continued. “He sees beneath a person's appearance and knows who you truly are. It wasn’t right for the man to try to steal the bag, but either way, I think John did the right thing.” 

“Of course, he could’ve been lying,” I argued. 

“True,” replied Mark. “But I don’t think so. I think man should realize he gets more out of life by telling the truth instead of making up one. By basing life off a lie, you become one too. He may have told a lie or not but what does it matter? In the end, John did a good thing.” He looked back over his shoulder. His two brothers were playing pool together in the back of the room near the exit. They were laughing and having a good time together. 

He turned back around. “So, do you have any siblings?” 

‘Oh, you have no idea!’ I wanted to say. But that would be a lie. Mark clearly had a great understanding of siblings just as I did. So, I just responded with “Yeah, I have an older brother.” 

“Oh!” he seemed intrigued. “Where is he?” 

“He’s almost done with graduate school. He got a full ride to Yale and is studying International Relationships.” 

“Wow!” Mark sounded impressed. “Amazing! Good for him! He could be quite an influence on you.” He took a long sip of the beer I’d given him at the beginning of his enchanting story. 

“You’d think!” I said ironically. “But no. We were never that close. He was always wanting to go to a big-name school, so he studied quite hard in grade school.” I poured myself a beer and took a sip. “He was very popular, good looking and a somewhat decent athlete.” I took another sip. “I was none of those things.” 

“What do you mean?” Mark questioned. “You look beautiful!” ‘ 

People did complement my looks. I had nice looking blonde hair and smooth skin, but that wasn’t going to help me in the long run. 

“Thanks,” I responded wearily. “But that doesn’t matter. I found out way back that looks aren't everything. I'm also not smart. I got into Richland but I’m still struggling! "I took another sip of the cheap beer. “I’m working here to pay off school.” 

Mark looked empathetic. “Can your parents help?” 

I shook my head. “My family believes in solving problems alone. We never ask each other for help, let alone money.” 

“Your brother?” 

Again, I shook my head. “I don’t want to.” 

“Why is that?” 

I didn’t have an answer. What could I say? That I was just afraid of crawling to my sibling for help or because my family would frown upon me. Finally I said, “I don’t know. We just aren’t that close.” 

Mark leaned in closer. His face turned serious. “We’re human beings. We struggle. We fall. But in time, we need learn to pick ourselves up by others showing us the path we want to continue down on. It’s not right some of us get more than others. It’s not a fair society. But fear is the main reason we are being held back. Fear is what keeps us from becoming our best. I would know. When I drafted into the military, I was beyond terrified and real heroes admit when they’re afraid. But I didn’t. I was told to suck it up and move on. But after boot camp, I broke down crying in front of my drill sergeant. I told him I was afraid and wasn’t fit for the service. He looked me straight in the eye and I thought then I was going to get beaten senseless for being afraid. But he didn’t. He told me that it’s ok to be afraid. It’s ok to say we aren't perfect, that we aren't strong enough. And he helped me. He showed me it’s ok to be afraid because like I said-we're only human.” He took a sip of beer before continuing. “Connecting this to you, sometimes we need to ask for help, even if we don’t really need it. You gain the insights of the people around you and grow the relationships of the people you care for most. There is absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help. You should never fear doing it. No matter what it is, you’ll be surprised at the wonderful things we can accomplish by asking for help.” 

He looked back at his two brothers. “I know you say you might not be close with your brother. But believe me, I’m sure right now, he’s thinking of you.” 

I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless. “I... wow, thank you.” That was all I could manage.  

He smiled. “Don’t be, I’m just trying to help.” He winked at me as he said that last part. Then he got up and pulled out his wallet. He placed fifty dollars on the table. “Keep the change, he said. You deserve it.” 

He walked over to his brothers who were still playing pool. After a few minutes, they all got up to leave. As his brothers exited the door, Mark turned back around to face me. “Oh, one last thing.” 

I looked up. 

“Merry Christmas,” he said cheerfully. And with that he opened the doors and stepped outside into the night.