Writing Prompt – Day 73
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Write a scene in the setting of a bar.
My example :
Darren gulps back the rest of his whiskey and slams the glass back on the counter. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then hangs his head low. He doesn’t have a life to go back to anymore and it’s killing him. The last twenty-four hours changed his life forever and things will never be the same again.
“Another round?” The bartender asks him.
Darren runs his fingers through his hair and nods his head. “Yes, please.”
“Rough day?”
He takes a deep breath in. “Look,” he glances at the bartender’s nametag. “Bill, I’m not into small talk. Don’t worry you’ll get your tip. But I don’t need entertaining. Just keep the drinks coming and we’ll be alright.”
Bill holds his hands up. “Alright buddy, you betchya.” He fills Darren’s glass and slides it across the counter. “But if you change your mind, I don’t talk for tips.” He points around the room. “As you can see, it gets lonely in here.”
“Yeah well, that’s why I chose this place. I needed a quiet bar. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he tips his glass toward Bill and slides down from the bar stool. Heading around the corner, he makes his way to a small booth where he can suffer in peace.
He downs his Jack and Coke and leans back in his seat, resting his toward the ceiling. He has no wife, no kids, no house, no job, no car, no bank account, and only chump change in his pocket. Rewind twenty-fours ago and he had all those things.
Damn, I need another drink.
Just when he was about to head back up to the bar for another round, Bill comes around the corner. As irritating as Bill is, God bless his soul for the tray of drinks he brings with him. Six whiskey glasses are placed in front of Darren who happily grabs one. He pauses with it mid-air to his lips as he watches Bill taking a seat on the other side of his table.
“I know you don’t want to talk, but I thought you could use some company. I’ve had a real shitty week and I could really use some drinks too.” Bill grabs one of the glasses and knocks it back. “I won’t talk to you. I promise. But I could really use this.”
“What if customers come in?” Darren asks.
“Well, I locked the door,” he shrugs. “I suppose I might get fired but at this point, I guess I just don’t really care.”
Darren hands another glass to Bill, letting him know that his misery is welcomed. He does a quick cheer with him before slamming yet another one. He knows he should slow down but what does it even matter anymore.
They sit there in silence until all the glasses are gone.
Bill heads back up to the bar and Darren follows, stumbling up onto a barstool.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you,” Darren slurs. “But you have to tell me your story first.”
Bill lazily smiles. “Deal. I’ll bet ya a hundred bucks my story is worse than yours though.”
“Not a chance,” Darren grins, but then his smile fades. “What am I gonna do Bill?”
“I don’t know, but my story just might make you feel better about your own. I have all night if you do to talk about it.”
Darren nods. “Okay buddy,” he hiccups. “Start spilling.”
How’d you do pals?!
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