Bart Blog

Sharp air, tinted white by water vapor trapped by winter coldness low at the ground. Street lights hitting the fog create illumination that even the best design can’t match. World dissolved in glowing milk. Market square is filled with people. At this hour business is not happening, people are here only for social reasons. Talking, drinking or being alone in the crowd and also drinking. There are other types but they leave the stage quickly.

I observe the world through the big pub window, drinking and alone. Inside it’s loud. Very loud. It forces the bartender to a familiar counter lean to get the next order. Still mixups happen often. Nobody is dancing but room moves like a slow social tango. Couple of locals. Couple of tourists. A bachelorette party in the middle. Upstairs a game is on. Muted chant can be heard through the quiet parts of the music downstairs.

I will have another beer. My order happens without a word. I gently raise the glass, my gesture is acknowledged by small head nod from the bartender. Two minutes later empty glass leaves my table and a full one enters. Again, talking is not involved.

Couple next to me is having their moment. Good for them, but they will need to change the venue quickly at this pace.

For couple of seconds the bachelorette party is louder than the music, bartender laughs. Turns out that the order of five vodkas was just for the maid of honor. Penalty for being very late. Manager visibly instructed the bartender to observe how the situation develops. It was too much. The girl runs to the toilet. More wild laughter.

Couple next to me leaves. Big tip under the paperweight made of martini glass. Three friends move from the bar to the now empty table. Waitress moves in quickly, glasses picked up, table wiped, tip collected, new order received. All in a single minute. Their discussion moves on to their work. Something is exciting.

Maid of honor walks back from the toilet. Tall, slender. Long hair slightly curled, makeup restrained. In her right hand a small rectangular purse. The dress is revealing but cautious; mirror sequins catch the green of the Jägermeister neon. Her walk is confident, but she hesitates, considering what comes next. That leaves quickly when the whole pub cheers for her. Waitress hands her a glass of water with a lemon slice. She thanks her with a big smile of relief.

Bachelorette party leaves. They tried to kidnap the bartender but he refused. It was civilized but still a tall and wide human shaped object moved slightly from the doors to the bar direction, ready to intervene. It was not necessary. He moved back and became still. His clothes make him nearly invisible in the dim light.

Manager grabs a package of cigarettes and a lighter from below the bar. He moves past the counter, gracefully avoiding a waitress holding a tray of unreasonable amount of glasses, exchanges a quick sentence with the guest at the table near the stairs, puts the cigarette into his mouth. He pats the shadowy figure on the arm, while it opens the door for him. Lighter flashes in the last three steps, inhale happens still inside, exhale on the outside. He vanishes leaning back into the small recess in the wall. Every couple of seconds his face gets a light golden illumination. Eyes stare into the distance.

Bartender reduces the volume of music slightly. Speakers don’t have to compete with a bunch of intoxicated women. Next minutes are much quieter until chanting from upstairs turns into roar and singing. A win for the guests’ favorites. Upstairs waitress comes down shaking head and laughing slightly to the bottom staff. Stadium noises become louder and louder. A crowd of men go downstairs and outside. They continue singing. Other side of the road replies with the same enthusiasm. Manager checks the upper floor. Goes downstairs and puts a small chain onto the stairs railings. In the middle there is a blackboard plaque with chalk-written sign: closed.

3rd beer arrives. I did not order it, but I would. Nod, nod back. Creamier, fresh keg.

Bachelorette party is back. They were in a strip club. One of the dancers is with them. They managed to kidnap this one. He greets the bartender and the manager. He gets a shot of whiskey.

Waitress approaches, collects the glass, lowers her head and smiles, eyes ask a simple question.

– No thanks, that’s enough, I will pay at the bar.

I pick up my pen, notebook and walk towards the counter, locate myself between two couples. Bartender sees me. His nod is clear that he will be with me in a moment. He finishes two espresso martinis, pours two tequila shots, and puts it all on a tray with a bag of peanuts. Tray leaves the counter in the same second.

– Yes boss?
– That will be all thanks.
– That will be 75.
– Make it 100.
– Thank you.

Card reader tries to ping joyfully but screeches instead. Its speaker had contact with liquids much too often for this line of work.

– Have a great weekend.
– You too.

I grab my coat. Stand next to the door. While dressing up.

– I would love to see you strangle the maid of honor.
– Some day I will. – replies a shadow in a bassy growl
– Good night.
– Good night, get home safe.

I walk past the door. Air is fresh. Too late for the tram, the taxis are waiting.