Arthur Banks liked to photograph as a hobby. One of the perks of the entertainment world, one often overlooked, was the travelling. On lower quality jobs, an actor could drive a few hours and only make enough money to cover gasoline. When Arthur drove through the country-side, he admired the peak into the wilderness, and the chaos of the greenery. When he walked around the city, it was the opposite. The way buildings had been planned, and the effort into their design, fascinated him.
Now he was walking downtown at night, observing how the lights of the local shops and bars lit the streets. When he was particularly daring, like tonight, he was willing to travel to the seedier parts of the city. He hid himself as well as he could; his photography was likely to draw as much attention as his foreign appearance. Even his walk, he imagined, probably looked different to the locals.
The atmosphere was odd this night. Arthur kept to himself and he expected others to do the same, but instead a great number of groups were interacting with each other. He could see many kinds of deals going on, as if something new had burst onto the scene. He took was pictures he could, but he began to fear that he was being watched, and entered a bar.
Arthur didn't like to drink alcohol. He waited at the bar without much urgency, until the people around became more used to him. Finally, the bartender became available.
"What'll you have?"
"Coke," Arthur said. The man sitting next to him gave a quick look, as if ashamed of Arthur, before turning back to his girlfriend. Arthur glanced at their glasses. The man was drinking a simple glass of scotch, and his girlfriend was having a bubbly cocktail. The man liked to nurse his scotch, spending more time sniffing than sipping. His girlfriend was much the same, but when she sipped she was always fighting something inside. She seemed to be fighting back some kind of nausea, and was treating the glass as a kind of medicine.
Arthur was unceremoniously given a can, which he took as a sign that he wasn't welcome to stay long.
"This is our last coke tonight, by the way. We have other drinks if you want those," said the bartender.
Arthur took the can and walked around the tavern. He was the only person with a bright red can, but he noticed that a kind of fad was being indulged by most of the customers. Some bright pink and blue cans with the big word "Expect" was being mixed in with people's alcohol. He remembered that his wife was doing a commercial for the brand earlier today. He missed her in a tiny way. He loved to talk with her about various things: life, work, and expectations. She didn't appreciate his explorations, though, and she would often distract him from his stargazing. He suspected that she was envious that his attention was elsewhere than her. Perhaps he could talk with the locals about what drinks were popular around here.
Then again, too many people seemed to be rushing to the bathroom in sickness. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to stay here any longer.
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