Florida’s Church for Pagans and Miscreants a Bar (Draft)
Smithy filled the glass, staring at the yellow liquid spewing from the tap into the glass, foam expanding, he had done this 100 times today and it was only 3 in the afternoon. In total, by the end of the day, Smithy will have filled about 300 glasses of beer, opened 300-400 bottles of beer, and poured 600-700 hard liquors.
That was roughly 90,000 beer glasses filled a year, 90-100 thousand beer bottles opened, and 230ish thousand hard liquor bottles poured.
Smithy thought this calculous in the time it took to fill the glass with beer, like he had done 90,000 times in the past year. About 45,000 of those times he calculated pitchers filled and 45,000 times he didn’t.
As he was dropping off the beer, he saw Pigtailed Sue walk into the bar. He never actually said the words Pigtailed Sue out loud to anyone, it was a name for his own mind, mainly because Sue had always kept her hair in two long, braided tails every time he had ever seen her. The kind that make you think of Indians, but add a pack of Camel Wides a day and biker leathers. She still looked good despite the smoking and her 30 some odd years.
Pigtailed Sue was followed by a new one. They were both smiling and laughing about something.
“What can I get for you Sue?”
“2 Bud heavies and 2 Whiskey chasers.”
“Any preference on the Whiskey?”
“Cheap.”
“What a fancy date.” The new guy.
“I said a drink their bubba, never said date.” She was smiling when she said it though.
Smithy took all this in while servicing their drinks. Years of bartending had honed his peripheral observation skills expertly.
“You know what this guy said to me today Smithy?”
“What did he say Sue?”
“I pull up at a red light and he leans out the window and asks if I’ll be his next ex-wife.”
“That’s a line right there.”
They all laughed.
“Well obviously it worked.”
“We ain’t married yet bubba.”
“Well here’s to impromptu engagements.”
They touched glasses and shot back the Whiskey.
“Say, that is cheap whiskey, lets get another barkeep. Hell of a name for a bar you got here.”
“Lost a bet.”
“Really?”
“No.”
Sue laughed because she had heard all of Smithy’s routines before.
“Well where did the name come from?”
“You’d have to ask the owner.”
“How come you never?”
“Wasn’t ever curious.”
“I bet he was a retired preacher, one who slept with too many of the new disciples, got run out of a small town in Indiana and headed South, stopping to ask the devil’s directions to another small town where he could shepherd.”
“You found one with an imagination Sue.”
“I was found.” She laughed.
“Well here is to wayward preachers and the sheep they heard.”
They touched glasses again and shot back the cheap Whiskey.
“Tastes just as cheap the second time.”
“Where do you come from anyway Bubba?”
“Oh, a place a lot like this, just up on the East coast. Lots of white trash with nothing to do but drink in between welding jobs.”
“You a welder then?”
“No, never had a taste for hard work.”
“Well, you definitely have a taste for Whiskey.”
“And good looking women.”
She smiled at that. Smithy gave the man credit for being able to keep his eyes on hers the whole conversation. Pigtailed Sue liked to wear sleeveless shirts, the kind with a slit from collar to nipple right down the middle. And everything she had breast wise was trying to get out at all times.
“How did you get to ride bikes?”
“Had a man for a while, only good thing he ever did for me was teach me to ride.”
“Well you sure as hell ride, it took me 3 stop lights to get up courage to talk to you.”
For some reason, Smithy did not think that was true.
“Yeah?”
“It’s as though Aphrodite stole Apollo’s chariot, you outshine the world on that thing dear.”