Not the beginning, again!

•July 24, 2011 • Leave a Comment

With all the haze around it was hard to make out if sitting here was really here or anywhere for that matter. For that matter where is here, oh yeah, it’s home, work, the hangout, both, all of the above, none of the above, above all else it’s really just a drinking establishment used to pass time with friends. Well it used to be, not too very long ago. The blasts and loud bangs of gunfire coming from all directions above the bar, and the broken glass and sparks blazing and crackling and shattering from above. The smell of cheap liquor mixed with very expensive beer splashing about and sizzling into the mighty shifting vertical and horizontal fog lines. I’ll just sit here and imagine that none of this is happening, how can I just make it all go away. As I look over down the length of the bar in which I was sitting behind to avoid getting hit with a stray bullet or fragment of broken glass or sprayed in the face from a nice cold tap of some of the finest Ale’s and Stout’s ever created by a young master brewer that someday I’d hoped to be above all else. And as the beer goes everywhere with the contents of pressure that streams up from the large farm of carbon dioxide cylinders stored down in the basement near the keg cooler. What a waste! Damn it! But again looking down the bar, I see Alphie the bartender laying down handing me a bottle of Imperial Stout-trooper which just so happened to come from the bottled beer cooler about 10 feet down at the end of the bar. I snatch the bottle from his clawed hand and use his eye socket hole to pop off the bottle cap and begin to chug down that savory nectar of the gods that could be my last if I don’t make it out of here alive. The continuation of the side to side fog which looks more like that of an old television set with its analog signal getting lost in the airwaves, and in some serious need of some rabbit-ear adjusting. Possibly even in need of some aluminum foil crumpled at the ends of the antennae, to maybe help with the interference which probably really won’t, but it at least makes you feel as if it does. This all due to the large egg-shaped thing lodged in the wall down in the old mine shaft, turned wine cellar, turned  bourbon barrel beer aging storage area that we had just found a few hours prior to these other guys showed up and started shooting at us but for some reason can’t get past the haze that is all around the bar and throughout our rustic old saloon style pub. I look back over after finishing my stout and to my surprise I notice that Alphie is no longer there. Which really shouldn’t be of any surprise at all considering that he wasn’t there a minute ago just before giving me the brew to suck down. And a few seconds before that he was there and then not there again and again popping back and forth going backwards for about the last 90 seconds which seemed more like 20 or so minutes. Which also in retrospect seems rather like the last 20 or so minutes before the bar closes at night when you are trying to leave but the inebriation factor makes it seem like an eternity but the kind you don’t want to end when you are locked into senseless conversation with others in the same state of mind. All of this beautiful foaming brew running down the very old wooden bar top and pouring and dripping down sides and over the top like an ice cave melting at a really rapid pace due to some nuclear heat wave which had also turned the ice into black watery goo which who knows if is even possible. The very old wooden floor behind the bar that was never cleaned properly before first opening the pub starts to pool up in all the open valleyed grains of the very large lumbers that were used ages ago to make this floor, and the shattered glass from the behind bar liquor shelves and the mirrored backing and the bottles now cover the floor and continue to rain down creating a wet and crystal like sparkling floor cover that is definitely going to take entirely too much time to clean up. I continue to sit there and think about the time before all this mess started, and then I reflect upon the time when I thought that it was only the beginning of strange things that were to come before quickly realizing that it was not, but yet the beginning would come again later. And later still the beginning will have to come…..