The Bar - A Short Story

I almost forgot, I actually finished a Short Story today! Here it is, in full..

The pub was dark and warm; a fire crackled in the corner of the room as the clock above ticked on. It showed that we were a minute from 9pm. Apart from the barman and I, there was a random assortment of other individuals – five including me and the bar fellow - all men, sat at their own tables, drinking their own drinks, pondering their own lives. I was sat at the bar, staring down into my glass attempting to think about my life when a peculiar looking man, wearing glasses and a suit, entered the bar and sat two stools away from me.

The cold he brought in followed him to his stool and started to crawl its way towards my feet.
I glanced up and investigated his face, he seemed confused and lost.
“What’s your name, fella?” the barman asked, as he continued to clean a wine glass.
The suited man didn’t remove his gaze from the wooden bar, but he had clearly heard the barman.
“Erm..” The suited man scrambled around in his pockets for something, finally he looked up at the barman, having found nothing. “I.. Can’t remember.”
I removed my gaze from the suited man, now uninterested, and continued to drain my drink. I was not surprised.
Nor was the barman, who nodded in an understanding way. “I see.”
The barman put the wine glass down on a mat and began pouring some red wine, and continued. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. Have a drink and you’ll be OK.”
The suited man took the wine glass and a sip, he seemed to enjoy it.
“Do you remember anything? Anything at all? It’s important that you think real hard about this, friend.” The barman asked, in a seemingly surprised tone.
The suited man placed the wine glass back on the table and seemed to concentrate; I turned back towards him and waited for his response.
He sighed with a groan. “I’m... sorry. I can’t remember anything”
The barman and I both deflated slightly. Those weren’t the words we wanted to hear. However, the barman was less cynical than me, and returned with a smile; a typical barman smile. “OK buddy. Drink up; you’ll be fine in a short while”

The suited man continued to drink. I inspected his clothes and compared them with my own.
I had never seen a suit like that before, it was extremely straight and clean. My own clothing was bordering on ancient. I considered the gap between the suited man and myself and began to worry.

How long had I been in this place?
How many people had I seen enter and leave?

I shook my empty glass at the barman; he smiled and grabbed the nearby scotch bottle, glided over and began to pour me another drink.
“I didn’t realize life was so damn discriminatory, barman.” I watched as the barman poured my drink; it slished and sloshed. He looked at me ironically and smiled.
“It could be worse, old timer, you could be the barman. The barman never leaves!” Was his surprisingly optimistic reply.
With that, he took the bottle back to its place on the shelf and disappeared into the back.
I was still upset, and depressed. I had an urge to get out of this place and go back to my life, but I knew that I did not want to – could not.
Not yet.
I scanned the room and tried to remember coming in, but I could not. I picked up my glass and looked at it with contempt.
How many had I had?
I placed it back on the table and noticed that the suited man was looking at me. Had I said something, or made a noise?
“Does it come back?” He asked with hope.
At least I hadn’t said something, I wasn’t completely incapacitated.
“What?” I asked even though I knew exactly what he was referring to.
“Your memory. Does your memory come back?”
I took a sip of my scotch; it warmed my chest and burned my throat. I turned to the suited man and looked deep into his eyes. For some reason I told myself to act as sober as possible, but in all honesty I did not care.
“No. No it does not, Mr Suited Man.” I let that little revelation wash over the fellow, before I went on. Why did I always have to tell them? I felt like the bad guy.
“Why don’t you try and leave Mr Suited Man? I’ll tell you why. Because you don’t want to. Don’t try and understand that because there isn’t anything to understand.” I took another drink. “You just – plain and simple – don’t want to leave. But don’t worry, eventually you will. But not yet.”
The suited man looked as confused as ever. I tried to remember the person who had had this little talk with me, but the only constant I could remember was the barman. And he never explained anything to anyone; he only ever asked questions.

Before he could formulate a response, a bell chimed – an old bell, previously used to announce the pubs last orders, I guessed – and I could see that the barman had reappeared; he was looking over to a man in the corner of the room.
Everyone else in the room – including the suited man - had stopped what they were doing and looked at the barman, hope shining from their eyes. Everyone except me.
“Time for you to move on!” The barman proclaimed, as he had many times before.

An elderly man sitting in the corner stood up; everyone else looked slightly disappointed. The man, who was wearing raggedy clothes that rivalled my own, had the biggest smile on his face. He walked towards the door – arms stretched out like a child learning to walk – opened the door and left; the cold air rushing in with a woosh, as the warmth attempted to creep out.
I could not help but smile slightly for that man, he had been here a while.
Not as long as myself, but a while nonetheless.

The excitement was over, for now. We’d eagerly wait for the bell to chime again; not that I was expecting my time to come any time soon, but the change was a welcome one.
I eyed the suited man carefully and wondered if he’d be here for the long haul or if he’d be leaving any time soon.
You could never really tell.

I took a drink.

I realized, suddenly, that the suited man had returned his gaze to me.
“Why am I here?” He looked scared.
I had figured it out a long time ago but didn’t like telling anyone; if you were going to be here for a long time you’d want to have something to occupy your mind.
“I don’t know, Mr Suited Man. Have another drink and forget your worries. Believe me; it doesn’t pay to worry about it.” I lied.

We both took another drink.

I looked deep into my glass, hoping to find something at its bottom. But I did not. I tried to remember my name, my family, my past. But I could not remember anything.
The fire continued to crackle, as if it were being fuelled by ever-lasting logs. The clock above it ticked on; it presented the time as eight fifty-nine.
I returned my gaze to the barman, who was cleaning a scotch glass. I was about to say something to him when the door opened and a pretty looking woman – dressed in black - wearing a hat entered.

Her heels clipped and clopped as she walked nonchalant over to the bar and sat in between the suited man and myself. She removed her hat and placed it on the bar, in the space occupied by no one in particular.
The barman poured some scotch into the small glass and slid it into the pretty woman’s left hand. I looked into her eyes – she had pretty blue eyes – but I knew straight away that she was of no interest to me; lost and confused.
She took a drink of the scotch and she made a face like she really needed that drink.
I turned away.
“I can’t remember my name, my life, anything!” She said, the fear covered her eyes with a watery lens.
The barman nodded and began to ask her his questions.
I shook my glass at the barman, and began to formulate my answers.
We all waited for the bell chime.

An Appology

I am a predictable toad, aren't I?

Well, I decided to post on here again. Mostly because I've actually began blogging (why is my spell checker so dated; it's a word, dammit!) in other areas and thought "why bother, when I have a perfectly good one right here?" To which I answered, "Well, 'cos you feel guilty for not posting".

That almost was the end of that, until I realised how much time and effort I'd put into the design of this place. It's all very pretty. And since I've been designing my own site - all I need now is some eSpace, and I'm set - I thought I'd give old trusty (that's this site) another bash.

So what's changed with me?

Not a lot, quantitatively. I'm still working at HMRC and I've yet to flee the country in search of my Holy Grail; an adventure of sorts.
I still live at home with my mum and brother and have yet to develop a Website (in my defense, as I've already said, I am close)

But, qualitatively, there is one thing, actually I'm using it as the reason why all the above hasn't changed..

I'm in love!

Yeah how fantastically-lame to all you people who aren't, and how empathetically cutesy to everyone who is. Perspective is a bitchy mirror.

OK so what's the deal with this blog? Who knows, I may start posting frequently - read: less strictly - or you may not see me for another thousand years........


R.U

Quickie: Song of the Week

Since their levitation to success, this band has been one of the most consistent around. So many anthem-like tunes, as well as some that touch the soul, others that ring around in your head for days...

Hail mostly from Northern Ireland, but originally forming in Scotland, Snow Patrol shot to fame with the song-of-a-generation Run which is a favourite of mine too. But I'm not here to talk about that, or any of their other fantastic tunes that you may have heard of from their albums. This tune was recorded for the Spiderman 3 OST and is beautifully harmonic while at the same time having a killer beat; it's kind of a Run/Chocolate hybrid.

The video is simple but brilliant too, with a group of children performing their perspective on Spiderman; the song speaks to the soul and everyone can relate to it. I am, of course, babbling on about Signal Fire.

Signal Fire
The perfect words never crossed my mind,
'cause there was nothing in there but you,
I felt every ounce of me screaming out,
But the sound was trapped deep in me,
All I wanted just sped right past me,
While I was rooted fast to the earth,
I could be stuck here for a thousand years,
Without your arms to drag me out,

There you are standing right in front of me (x2)
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close cause I need you to guide me to safety

No I won't wait forever(2x)

In the confusion and the aftermath,
You are my signal fire,
The only resolution and the only joy,
Is the faint spark of forgiveness in your eyes,

There you are standing right in front of me (x2)
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close cause I need you to guide me to safety,

There you are standing right in front of me (x2)
All this fear falls away to leave me naked,
Hold me close cause I need you to guide me to safety,

No I won't wait forever(x3)

Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs

2 days in. It's been a bit 'grueling'; not done any 'work' as of yet. Just been talked at about dress code, fire safety procedures, contracts, filling out forms, what's expected of me, what we're allowed to do (ONLY access tax records for those we need to access for work related tasks) and not (anything else).

It sounds doom-and-gloom for some part, but it's a pretty relaxed atmosphere. And the people there seem to be a good bunch of people; everyone is there for different reasons, but we're all there to do a job.

Training officially begins tomorrow, and will last until Wednesday/Thursday of next week. During that time we'll be shown how to do our job. I'm hopeful that'll I'll perhaps take to it easier than many others, with my previous experience in I.T, databases and multi-tasking on-screen programs.

Oh, and I made a friend today too! Her name is Rachael and of all the things we have in common it's Counter Strike: Source. From the sounds of it she may of even been more hardcore than me!!

The real crack starts tomorrow though!

R. U

Goodbye Unemployment...

..Hello job!

That's right, the big adventure starts tomorrow (4pm 'til 8pm) so by this time tomorrow I'll have finished my first day of work at HM Revenue and Customs so expect some kind of first day impressions of: the office, it's employers and my activities, tomorrow.

Quickie: Song of the Week

Sticking with the Foo Fighters theme that I've been having over the previous weeks. Another one from their new album; a rare piano Foo Fighters song appears here. Home is the melodic poem-like song which sees the album take a slower pace. Perfect vocals from the Grohl himself, only prove that the Foos can do it all, whether it be a head-banging rock-fest or foot-tapping indie, they are the professionals.

Home

Wish I were with you
I couldn't stay
Every direction
Leads me away
Pray for tomorrow
But for today

All I want is to be home

Stand in the mirror
You look the same
Just lookin' for shelter
From cold and the pain
Someone to cover
Safe from the rain

All I want is to be home

Echoes and silence
Patience and grace
All of these moments
I'll never replace
No fear of my heart
Absence of faith

All I want is to be home
Ooh

All I want is to be home

People I've loved
I have no regrets
Some I remember
Some I forget
Some of them living
Some of them dead

All I want is to be home

Quickie: Carlito's Way - Review

"Just when I thought that I was out they pull me back in" - Michael Corleone

(Godfather Part III)

Plot synopsis.
Reformed con, Carlito Brigante (Al Pacino) emerges from 5 years behind bars as a history-book legend to a world somewhat changed. Carlito's Way catalogs the chase of a dream; going straight, of a man who knows nothing else but to do it the wrong way. The initially moral-grounded lawyer David Kleinfeld (Sean Penn) becomes Carlito's dead weight, and tempts Carlito back into his old ways, while old flame Gail (Penelope Ann Miller) provides the polar opposite moral compass.

Carlito must choose between honour, debt and loyalty or the American dream in paradise. In a final take similar to The Untouchables (also directed by Brian De Palma), Carlito's way is left dripping in irony.


Mini-review.
After controversial success with Scarface, director Brian De Palma provides Pacino with the lead again as they, this time, tackle a gangster film more "western" than "gangs"; you can't trust your family, friends, loved ones - "...there's only one rule, you save your own ass".
Pacino and Penn are excellent as mirrors of each other and themselves as the tables turn swiftly. It's particularly interesting to watch Penn portray his character's quick self destruct as the slimey lawyer falls deeper and deeper into trouble. Carlito is played with the intensity you'd expect from Pacino, and the sympathy he generates from the audience is not only impressive but believable too. However, for all of Pacino's great work the ending was generally not met with any emotional attachment - something perhaps due to Penelope Ann Miller's portrayal of Gail; there was something missing from it which seemed to emotionally isolate Pacino's character.

3.5 out of 5

A good standing flick about an unoriginal story. Worth a watch if not for the performances alone.