Dive

“See you later weirdo!” I shot to George never looking back. Cindy giggled in agreement as we both had smiles on our faces walking out together.
“Whatever!” I heard George say as the screen door slammed shut.
“I don’t think I’ll be going there again anytime soon,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.”
As we crossed the street I thought for a brief second. What if I had stayed in bed? Man, I would have missed out. I didn’t really notice before, but it was a warm, sunny day outside.
You see I was outside of Larry’s, some dive bar off the highway that I tend to frequent for whatever reason, “Cheap drinks and half-way decent food, Count me in!” I casually say to myself as I open the raggedy screen door with a hole in the bottom corner. “Gee I hope I get a fly on my burger today! That would make this day extra special!” I blurt, continuing my theme of talking to myself.
I feel, sometimes, like I am talking to another person, but no one else sees them. Most times though I catch a glimpse of someone watching me enjoy my own company and I drop all expression from my face and try to appear normal. Like right now.
“What do you want today?” inquired George, the owner, a middle-aged man with a beer belly and a hankering for expressing his opinion on everything. He was standing there behind the bar resting his gut against it, scratching his ass and then smelling his fingers. “Who were you talking to anyways? Always coming in here with that crazed look, chattering to yourself. Did you know they have medication for that?” he added.
I barked “Hey wash your hands! Didn’t your mother ever tell you to never let another person catch you digging in your backside with your bare hand? I mean, what was that, man? At least do it on the outside of those nasty sweat pants. Isn’t it this week that you bathe anyway?” I stare at him, fuming, smoke possibly coming out of my ears. “Just give me a menu!” I snapped as I took a seat at the bar. Maybe I should have just stayed in bed.
Looking around, I wondered why I came to this place so often. There are tears in practically all the seats and stools. One of the windows has a shade that is curled and falling down. The marks on the silverware sitting on the bar in front of me and the floating things in the glass of water are par for the course. There is no smell of the grill or cooking food at all, instead a dank smell of stale cigarette smoke. Usually I hear a jukebox or the TV, not today though. It is eerily quiet, with the hum of the coolers and the ceiling fans.
George produces a grungy looking menu “Here you go sir, I’ll be right back after washing my hands,” he sneered. He waddled back to the kitchen, swinging the door open. I heard the faucet turn on and a loud fart.
It’s dark, like most bars, with a beam of light shining onto my back and the bar coming from the window with the falling shade, like a friend tapping my shoulder. The other light sources, dingy bar lights with Budweiser symbols on them are too covered with dust and cigarette smoke residue to create any usable light. It was a little after two in the afternoon and the sun that was creeping in through the hole in the shade was getting more intense it seemed. I woke up about a half hour ago. I still had bed head. I had managed to crawl out of bed, slightly dazed with a headache from a few too many last night, and brush my teeth and run my hand over my roughly buzzed scalp. A vane attempt at trying to straighten the groups of hair sticking up.
“I’m sure that he isn’t actually washing his hands, probably just putting them under running water.” a young, soft female voice says from the corner of the room. I jumped a little. The voice was familiar, but I wasn’t quite sure who it was. I slowly slid around on the stool.
“Yeah you’re probably right,” I said to the young woman sitting at a table with an obstructed view from the front door, but clearly visible from where I was sitting at the bar. It was her! I smiled to myself. I remembered why I came here all the time. Her name was Cindy. She was a student at the local university where I dropped out a couple of years ago. She is a few years younger than I am, and very attractive, blonde hair down just above her shoulders, soft blue eyes and a thin frame. I used to see her at parties and we’d talk casually. I always secretly had feelings for her, but I never saw it going anywhere. She was a sorority girl, but not your typical stereotype. She was sweet and shy. I wondered what she was doing coming into this dingy bar when there are so many other better places she could have been.
. “Hey, I thought I recognized that voice, how are you? I haven‘t seen you in a little while.” I inquired. I started coming in here when I moved into my apartment across the street a few months ago. I started seeing her in here about a month and a half ago. That is when I started frequenting this place just to catch a glimpse of her if not talk to her. Before that I saw her here and there.
“I‘m good, I have been just going to class. This is my last semester, so I am trying to figure out what I am going to do for the rest of my life. I have been kind of stressed out. What have you been up to?” after she was done talking she kind of sighed. She still had the soft look I remembered with the easy cheekbone and thin lips.
I always had a feeling that she had everything together. That was part of the reason why I thought that it would never work between us. I accepted that, moved on, and kept it casual. Now I didn’t know what to think, there seemed to be a light shining on those old feelings. I had been with other girls. Some of them were her sorority sisters and friends. I usually got out without even a string pulling me back.
The situation was getting awkward. It all started when I heard her soft voice. I stretched out my arms; feeling cramped and said, “Not much really. I just got back into town a few months ago. After I dropped out of school I traveled around for a while, on the road mostly. I have been working and writing in my free time since I have been back. Other than that I am the same as last time we talked,” I paused, “What was your major again?” I kind of jumped around with my speech. She didn’t seem to notice.
“English, I want to teach it in a university, but there is so much more school I need to take.”
“Yeah I bet. That’s cool though, I always liked Literature, not so much Grammar though. I always have a book in my hand, even at work.” I smiled.
There was a clattering sound from the kitchen, and the sound of possibly another fart, but the walls deadened most of the sound. I glanced quickly only to return to look at Cindy.
She smiled back and added, “ Yeah I remember seeing you around campus and you were always either reading or writing in a notebook. Why did you stop going to school?”
George barreled through the door, stumbling a little and then standing straight up and walking to the beer tap. “Ah, you’re the best.” He said to the tapper, filling a glass with Miller High-Life.” He moaned in excitement.
“The Champagne of beers, huh George?” Cindy chimed. I chuckled and looked at George scratching his belly.
“It’s the High-Life,” he remarked sarcastically. The glass made its way from the tap to his mouth and the beer quickly disappeared, emptying the glass. He turned his back without another word and walked back in the kitchen.
George had given me time to think about my answer to Cindy’s question that didn’t sound cliché or generally moronic. “Yeah so, I don’t really know. I guess I just felt I was going in the wrong direction you know? I am back at the community college, taking classes here and there, pretty much whatever catches my eye. And I work fulltime at the metal shop on the industrial side of town. The job isn‘t great, but it‘s good money.” I turned around to face Cindy. My hand was shaking and my voice may have cracked. I’m sure I was nervous. This is the most I have said to her in a long time. It was like starting over again.
“I completely understand, I have thought about it, but I had too much pressure to stay you know?” She stood up and walked toward the bar. The memory of her look cemented in my brain with her walk toward me and the smell of her perfume filling my nostrils as she got closer. George charged through the swinging door again.
“Hey you two going to order something? I mean I’m not open for people just to hang out. Either buy something or leave.” George was breathing heavy. What was he doing back there? I looked at him and didn’t even respond. I turned back to Cindy.
“I think I might wander across the street to the diner. You want to join me? We can continue this conversation in a more pleasant environment,” I asked.
“Sure,” she remarked with the edges of her mouth perking up slightly. As we both walked toward the door, side-by-side, her hand reached for mine and we made eye contact. The sun shined on her face and she squinted her eyes. I know why I was going to Larry’s all that time and right now I think I was starting to see why Cindy came in there too. I pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one, she grabbed it and took a drag. Handing it back, she looked into my eyes.
“It is good to see you again,” she said.
“Same to you.” I replied with a grin as her arm slid around my waist. We both broke the stare and looked forward to the diner on the other side of the road, and the motel next to it, and the gas station a little farther down, and after that I don’t really remember specifics, just that I felt better about everything. I was so glad that I had made it out of bed.