| General Fiction posted January 28, 2022 |
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The daily crowd at the local watering hole.
Rick's Bar and Saloon
by papa55mike
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You drive by them on the way home from work. Seedy little bars and saloons that group together. Usually, they're surrounded by used car dealers that you have to pay by the week, liquor stores, a gentleman's club or two, and a few pawn shops. All of that adds to the depressing landscape of this other world.
It's a strange existence, dealing only on the sufferings of others - those seeking relief from the mountains of pain collected over the years. The patrons fill their guts with whiskey, their minds with filth, hoping to sleep through the night without the screams of regret returning. These individuals come from all walks of life, and most were full of big dreams at the beginning that quickly faded into the nightmares they now live.
Rick's Bar and Saloon is a long way from Casablanca. At least this place tries to have a little decency. Rick won't allow any ladies of the night or drug dealing inside the bar, but it's hard to control what goes on in the parking lot.
When you walk in the front door, you'll notice the pool table to the left with a table in the darkened corner. Recently, Rick rebuilt the bar, putting a new solid Oak top and six new barstools surrounding it. The jukebox sits beside the liquor rack that fills the wall behind Rick, and he specializes in over 100 different brands of whiskey.
Business is a bit slow tonight. Only six people are partaking now, but it's still early on a Thursday night. Over in the corner, Jimmy looks passed out for the moment. Bob is sitting at the corner of the bar, nursing his second double shot of Jack. Two guys play pool while their girlfriends fill the place with smoke at the table in the other corner.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and in walks a vision of loveliness with long red hair and emerald, green eyes. She's dressed in jeans with slits in the knees, a black tee-shirt, and a black jacket. Her motorcycle boots shuffle along the floor. The young woman's presence wakes Jimmy in the corner when she stops behind Bob's broad back.
Rick speaks up, "I'll have to see some ID to serve you, sweetie."
She smiles and says, "There's nothing I want from here but my sorry Father to come home with me."
Bob cringes when he hears the voice. It's his daughter, Emily.
"Why haven't you answered my calls, Dad? I've sent you a hundred texts. You know that Mama is dying, and I told you the Hospice people brought her home Monday. If we're lucky, she might make it through the night."
"You know that I can't, sweetie," Bob's lower lip begins to quiver.
"No, I don't, Dad!" Emily shakes her head and says, "All I know is that ten years ago, when I was six, my hero walked away from his family." She catches a sob. "It left a hole inside of me that's never been filled."
"Well," a voice from the corner interjects into the conversation. Jimmy walks over with an evil grin and says, "I believe I can fill those holes for you, darling. I'd love to come to you every night. Why don't we talk about it back at the table?" Jimmy reaches out his hand and rubs her butt.
Emily turns with a sexy smile to draw him closer, then, with a lightning move, knees him in the crotch! Jimmy's eyes bulge out while he stumbles backward. That gives Emily enough room to hit him with a spinning roundhouse kick. Her boot lands squarely on his jaw, sending him flying across the room. Jimmy crumbles with a thud against the wall beside his table.
"I'm a seventh-degree blackbelt in Taekwondo. Does anybody else want some?"
Silent smiles fill the room, and the two men continue their game.
Emily turns back to her father and says, "You still haven't answered my question, Dad. I think you owe me an explanation."
Bob slowly turns to his daughter. He slowly rubs his thick fingers through his gray hair. Tears fill the corners of his steel-blue eyes, but he remains silent.
"There are many things I remember, Dad. Like the night you and a bunch of men from the church carried a massive cross down Main Street declaring the gospel to anyone who would listen. Our family never missed a church service, and you were once an Elder." Emily can't hold back the tears any longer. They begin to creep from her eyes then drip onto her jacket. "Please, Dad, tell me what happened."
Bob drops his head then begins to explain, "It was all about an affair I had with Carol, the Pastor's wife. Every man in the church knew she was nothing but evil. But most of us ended up visiting her anyway when the Pastor would do a revival in another town. She was looking for a reason to divorce Pastor Harold and begged me to run off with her. When I refused, Carol told everything to anybody who would listen. It was all over town. I didn't want your Mother involved in my shame. So I left, and the church collapsed."
"So that's it! That lousy affair. Mama knew about it and has forgiven you a thousand times over, or can't you forgive yourself?"
"Don't you see Emily? It was me who destroyed the church then broke your Mother's heart." Bob catches a sob, then continues. "I can never look her in the face again."
"Let me tell you what I see," Emily has to catch her temper. "I see the broken shell of a man whose pride won't let him accept forgiveness from those who love him! So keep on waiting. You think you've got regrets. If let Mama die without seeing her - he hasn't got enough whiskey for you to drown that sorrow!" Emily slowly turns to leave but not without one more thing to say, "Dad, I'm going home to hold Mama's hand until she sees the face of Jesus. I hope you follow me." The door opens then closes again.
Bob turns back to the bar and says, "Give me another one, Rick."
"I'm sorry, Bob," Rick takes his glass. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Go home and see your wife." He frowns then throws Rick a twenty. "Take your money, Bob. Your drinks were on the house."
As the door closes behind Bob, Jimmy starts to stir and asks, "What truck hit me?"
Rick laughs then answers, "Nothing but a fiery little redhead."
Thirty minutes later, Emily sits by her Mother's bed, gently caressing and rubbing her hand. She's not sure if Mama knows who it is. Suddenly, she hears a familiar old Ford truck pull up next to the house. Emily lifts her face to the ceiling and, through her tears, utters a simple prayer, "Thank you, Lord, for bringing my Daddy home."
You drive by them on the way home from work. Seedy little bars and saloons that group together. Usually, they're surrounded by used car dealers that you have to pay by the week, liquor stores, a gentleman's club or two, and a few pawn shops. All of that adds to the depressing landscape of this other world.
It's a strange existence, dealing only on the sufferings of others - those seeking relief from the mountains of pain collected over the years. The patrons fill their guts with whiskey, their minds with filth, hoping to sleep through the night without the screams of regret returning. These individuals come from all walks of life, and most were full of big dreams at the beginning that quickly faded into the nightmares they now live.
Rick's Bar and Saloon is a long way from Casablanca. At least this place tries to have a little decency. Rick won't allow any ladies of the night or drug dealing inside the bar, but it's hard to control what goes on in the parking lot.
When you walk in the front door, you'll notice the pool table to the left with a table in the darkened corner. Recently, Rick rebuilt the bar, putting a new solid Oak top and six new barstools surrounding it. The jukebox sits beside the liquor rack that fills the wall behind Rick, and he specializes in over 100 different brands of whiskey.
Business is a bit slow tonight. Only six people are partaking now, but it's still early on a Thursday night. Over in the corner, Jimmy looks passed out for the moment. Bob is sitting at the corner of the bar, nursing his second double shot of Jack. Two guys play pool while their girlfriends fill the place with smoke at the table in the other corner.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and in walks a vision of loveliness with long red hair and emerald, green eyes. She's dressed in jeans with slits in the knees, a black tee-shirt, and a black jacket. Her motorcycle boots shuffle along the floor. The young woman's presence wakes Jimmy in the corner when she stops behind Bob's broad back.
Rick speaks up, "I'll have to see some ID to serve you, sweetie."
She smiles and says, "There's nothing I want from here but my sorry Father to come home with me."
Bob cringes when he hears the voice. It's his daughter, Emily.
"Why haven't you answered my calls, Dad? I've sent you a hundred texts. You know that Mama is dying, and I told you the Hospice people brought her home Monday. If we're lucky, she might make it through the night."
"You know that I can't, sweetie," Bob's lower lip begins to quiver.
"No, I don't, Dad!" Emily shakes her head and says, "All I know is that ten years ago, when I was six, my hero walked away from his family." She catches a sob. "It left a hole inside of me that's never been filled."
"Well," a voice from the corner interjects into the conversation. Jimmy walks over with an evil grin and says, "I believe I can fill those holes for you, darling. I'd love to come to you every night. Why don't we talk about it back at the table?" Jimmy reaches out his hand and rubs her butt.
Emily turns with a sexy smile to draw him closer, then, with a lightning move, knees him in the crotch! Jimmy's eyes bulge out while he stumbles backward. That gives Emily enough room to hit him with a spinning roundhouse kick. Her boot lands squarely on his jaw, sending him flying across the room. Jimmy crumbles with a thud against the wall beside his table.
"I'm a seventh-degree blackbelt in Taekwondo. Does anybody else want some?"
Silent smiles fill the room, and the two men continue their game.
Emily turns back to her father and says, "You still haven't answered my question, Dad. I think you owe me an explanation."
Bob slowly turns to his daughter. He slowly rubs his thick fingers through his gray hair. Tears fill the corners of his steel-blue eyes, but he remains silent.
"There are many things I remember, Dad. Like the night you and a bunch of men from the church carried a massive cross down Main Street declaring the gospel to anyone who would listen. Our family never missed a church service, and you were once an Elder." Emily can't hold back the tears any longer. They begin to creep from her eyes then drip onto her jacket. "Please, Dad, tell me what happened."
Bob drops his head then begins to explain, "It was all about an affair I had with Carol, the Pastor's wife. Every man in the church knew she was nothing but evil. But most of us ended up visiting her anyway when the Pastor would do a revival in another town. She was looking for a reason to divorce Pastor Harold and begged me to run off with her. When I refused, Carol told everything to anybody who would listen. It was all over town. I didn't want your Mother involved in my shame. So I left, and the church collapsed."
"So that's it! That lousy affair. Mama knew about it and has forgiven you a thousand times over, or can't you forgive yourself?"
"Don't you see Emily? It was me who destroyed the church then broke your Mother's heart." Bob catches a sob, then continues. "I can never look her in the face again."
"Let me tell you what I see," Emily has to catch her temper. "I see the broken shell of a man whose pride won't let him accept forgiveness from those who love him! So keep on waiting. You think you've got regrets. If let Mama die without seeing her - he hasn't got enough whiskey for you to drown that sorrow!" Emily slowly turns to leave but not without one more thing to say, "Dad, I'm going home to hold Mama's hand until she sees the face of Jesus. I hope you follow me." The door opens then closes again.
Bob turns back to the bar and says, "Give me another one, Rick."
"I'm sorry, Bob," Rick takes his glass. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Go home and see your wife." He frowns then throws Rick a twenty. "Take your money, Bob. Your drinks were on the house."
As the door closes behind Bob, Jimmy starts to stir and asks, "What truck hit me?"
Rick laughs then answers, "Nothing but a fiery little redhead."
Thirty minutes later, Emily sits by her Mother's bed, gently caressing and rubbing her hand. She's not sure if Mama knows who it is. Suddenly, she hears a familiar old Ford truck pull up next to the house. Emily lifts her face to the ceiling and, through her tears, utters a simple prayer, "Thank you, Lord, for bringing my Daddy home."
It's a strange existence, dealing only on the sufferings of others - those seeking relief from the mountains of pain collected over the years. The patrons fill their guts with whiskey, their minds with filth, hoping to sleep through the night without the screams of regret returning. These individuals come from all walks of life, and most were full of big dreams at the beginning that quickly faded into the nightmares they now live.
Rick's Bar and Saloon is a long way from Casablanca. At least this place tries to have a little decency. Rick won't allow any ladies of the night or drug dealing inside the bar, but it's hard to control what goes on in the parking lot.
When you walk in the front door, you'll notice the pool table to the left with a table in the darkened corner. Recently, Rick rebuilt the bar, putting a new solid Oak top and six new barstools surrounding it. The jukebox sits beside the liquor rack that fills the wall behind Rick, and he specializes in over 100 different brands of whiskey.
Business is a bit slow tonight. Only six people are partaking now, but it's still early on a Thursday night. Over in the corner, Jimmy looks passed out for the moment. Bob is sitting at the corner of the bar, nursing his second double shot of Jack. Two guys play pool while their girlfriends fill the place with smoke at the table in the other corner.
Suddenly, the front door opens, and in walks a vision of loveliness with long red hair and emerald, green eyes. She's dressed in jeans with slits in the knees, a black tee-shirt, and a black jacket. Her motorcycle boots shuffle along the floor. The young woman's presence wakes Jimmy in the corner when she stops behind Bob's broad back.
Rick speaks up, "I'll have to see some ID to serve you, sweetie."
She smiles and says, "There's nothing I want from here but my sorry Father to come home with me."
Bob cringes when he hears the voice. It's his daughter, Emily.
"Why haven't you answered my calls, Dad? I've sent you a hundred texts. You know that Mama is dying, and I told you the Hospice people brought her home Monday. If we're lucky, she might make it through the night."
"You know that I can't, sweetie," Bob's lower lip begins to quiver.
"No, I don't, Dad!" Emily shakes her head and says, "All I know is that ten years ago, when I was six, my hero walked away from his family." She catches a sob. "It left a hole inside of me that's never been filled."
"Well," a voice from the corner interjects into the conversation. Jimmy walks over with an evil grin and says, "I believe I can fill those holes for you, darling. I'd love to come to you every night. Why don't we talk about it back at the table?" Jimmy reaches out his hand and rubs her butt.
Emily turns with a sexy smile to draw him closer, then, with a lightning move, knees him in the crotch! Jimmy's eyes bulge out while he stumbles backward. That gives Emily enough room to hit him with a spinning roundhouse kick. Her boot lands squarely on his jaw, sending him flying across the room. Jimmy crumbles with a thud against the wall beside his table.
"I'm a seventh-degree blackbelt in Taekwondo. Does anybody else want some?"
Silent smiles fill the room, and the two men continue their game.
Emily turns back to her father and says, "You still haven't answered my question, Dad. I think you owe me an explanation."
Bob slowly turns to his daughter. He slowly rubs his thick fingers through his gray hair. Tears fill the corners of his steel-blue eyes, but he remains silent.
"There are many things I remember, Dad. Like the night you and a bunch of men from the church carried a massive cross down Main Street declaring the gospel to anyone who would listen. Our family never missed a church service, and you were once an Elder." Emily can't hold back the tears any longer. They begin to creep from her eyes then drip onto her jacket. "Please, Dad, tell me what happened."
Bob drops his head then begins to explain, "It was all about an affair I had with Carol, the Pastor's wife. Every man in the church knew she was nothing but evil. But most of us ended up visiting her anyway when the Pastor would do a revival in another town. She was looking for a reason to divorce Pastor Harold and begged me to run off with her. When I refused, Carol told everything to anybody who would listen. It was all over town. I didn't want your Mother involved in my shame. So I left, and the church collapsed."
"So that's it! That lousy affair. Mama knew about it and has forgiven you a thousand times over, or can't you forgive yourself?"
"Don't you see Emily? It was me who destroyed the church then broke your Mother's heart." Bob catches a sob, then continues. "I can never look her in the face again."
"Let me tell you what I see," Emily has to catch her temper. "I see the broken shell of a man whose pride won't let him accept forgiveness from those who love him! So keep on waiting. You think you've got regrets. If let Mama die without seeing her - he hasn't got enough whiskey for you to drown that sorrow!" Emily slowly turns to leave but not without one more thing to say, "Dad, I'm going home to hold Mama's hand until she sees the face of Jesus. I hope you follow me." The door opens then closes again.
Bob turns back to the bar and says, "Give me another one, Rick."
"I'm sorry, Bob," Rick takes his glass. "I think you've had enough for tonight. Go home and see your wife." He frowns then throws Rick a twenty. "Take your money, Bob. Your drinks were on the house."
As the door closes behind Bob, Jimmy starts to stir and asks, "What truck hit me?"
Rick laughs then answers, "Nothing but a fiery little redhead."
Thirty minutes later, Emily sits by her Mother's bed, gently caressing and rubbing her hand. She's not sure if Mama knows who it is. Suddenly, she hears a familiar old Ford truck pull up next to the house. Emily lifts her face to the ceiling and, through her tears, utters a simple prayer, "Thank you, Lord, for bringing my Daddy home."
 Recognized |
I used another picture of this old bar in a series of stories called "Sneaky Pete's Bar." That was seven years ago. Yesterday, I went back to see if it still stood, and surprisingly, it did. We cherish our old places in Tennessee.
Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Many thanks for stopping by to read!
Have a great day, and God bless.
mike
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