Another Round At The Local Thirsty

Many people over the years have asked me the story of how I came about to work at The Local Thirsty, inquiries that I cheerfully deflect like a shuttlecock in a game of badminton. Rather, what interests me is how other folks first came into this sleepy little basement bar in the center of downtown.

One such tale quickly jumps into recollection. It was a few years after I'd secured most of the daytime shifts at The Thirsty, and so knew most regulars extremely well at this point. There was a trio of older gentlemen that always came in on Fridays, right at four-fifteen without fail.

First was Charlie, the self-appointed ringleader: short, bald and stocky and often wearing a hockey sweater even in the summer months. Charlie was the loudest, the most opinionated, and the most generous. He'd pull you into a one way conversation about something in the news he strongly disagreed with, but it was charming and worth your time.

Then there was Denny, or rather "Dennis Maxwell Charlton the Third" as he introduced himself. Denny was always immaculately dressed, often in a dark silk suit with a colourful tie and a pocketwatch chain dangling from his vest pocket. His hair was usually slicked with hilariously bad hair dye, like an almost glowing brown that even teenagers don't possess. Unlike Charlie, Denny was extremely cautious and precise with his money. His habit of tipping exactly fifteen percent on anything could sound funny, until he pulled out his coin case and there were thirteen nickels and six dimes atop my bar.

Completing the trio was Archie. He was the quietest one: wearing regular clothes and not bothering much with the graveyard of hair wrapping around his head. Arch would hardly say a word to anyone beyond Charlie or Denny, and once I learned his consistent drink of choice was a double rye and ginger, we only communicated through smiles and he tapping his reading glasses.

So it was another Friday, the calm after a somewhat busy lunch, and right at four-fifteen the gang walked in. Charlie was already chatting loudly about a big hockey game that evening, Denny was strutting in a bright purple suit that would offend Willy Wonka's taste, and there was Archie shuffling in quietly behind them.

'Hey Taps!' Charlie proclaimed to me as they sat at my bar. He always called me that and I bet it was because he couldn't pronounce my name. 'Beautiful day ain't it? Only sixteen below!'

They got their usual drinks (Archie his rye-ginger, Denny a Lychee Martini and Charlie whatever domestic beer we had on special) and mixed in with some of the other regulars at the bar. One woman in particular that Denny's arm was around had the trio very excited, and overhearing them I learned she was an old boss from decades before. Eventually she ordered a drink from me, a red wine, and looked at my bar in reminiscence.

'I remember the first time I stepped in this place...' She commented, running her hand along the smooth wood of the bar. 'These bums dragged me out here and I'll never forgive them!'

Everyone nearby hollered. The old boss (Angie, I later learned) bought everyone a shot (including me) and we all cheersed. It may be the loudest the Thirsty ever got at four-thirty in the afternoon.

'Well, I been coming here long before any of you!' Charlie boasted, spilling a bit of beer onto his order of fries. 'I remember seein' Savard high stick Bossy in the face on that big screen right there!' He blindly pointed to a corner that did not have a television, nor looked like it ever had.
'Was that your first time here, chap?' Denny asked.
'One of em for sure! Don't remember the "first" first time! They all kinda blend together.'
'Well, fortunately my recollective abilities are more exact.' Denny remarked, sipping his martini. 'It was summertime I'm certain and I was with you, Charles. You wanted me to check this "great spot" and my hopes were sky high. Instead you led me... here. But I will say, this place has delivered some fine memories over the years, and it's grown on me accordingly. To many more years, friends!'

We all cheersed again (I with a glass of water) and downed what we had. The trio all ordered another round of their familiar choices, except when I gave Archie his, he shook me off.

'Double gin and tonic, actually. Sorry about that.'
'No worries' I replied in surprise, putting the rye aside and pouring a gin.
'Arch? Drinking gin? You dying or something? What's up?' Charlie asked.
'Ah nothing, nothing.' Archie answered, slightly uncomfortable. 'You know, memories.'
'Wait a moment, chap.' Denny began, sliding elegantly into the moment. 'I don't believe you've ever told us about how you came to this humble hole. What a good anecdote that would be!'
'Yeah Arch! C'mon man, you never told me either. Heck, you mighta showed me this place for all I remember!' Charlie added.

The rest of the crowd leaned in to listen. Visibly unaccustomed to this amount of attention, Archie took a large gulp of his drink, which was another out-of-character move and he coughed a bit upon swallowing.

'Well...' he began, tapping his chest to clear his throat, '...fellas, the first time I came here, was the day I met my wife.'

A hush fell upon the crowd: clanging pints became quiet as doorknobs, whispers fell into an abyss of background static, the automated glasswasher stopped on cue, our regular patron Jake "Nosey" Nosul stepped out for a smoke, and Charlie silently nodded at me for a refill. I've never in my years tapped a beer and felt so much a character and a spectator within an event.

'You all want me to tell the story, don't you.' Archie observed, his eyes shy but curious.

We all gave a subtle cheer so as to ease our reserved friend into telling the tale. And he began:

'Well I was working as an intern at Hudson's Bay, fresh from college. One night I worked overtime in the office and the other fellas were restless for a drink. So I tagged along. They were especially thirsty so we ended up in the first spot we saw. It was a downstairs hole, smokey and cramped with old stools and booths, a smell of damp wood clinging to the place.

"What a dump! It's perfect!" One of them remarked.

'We sat at the bar for a round of whiskeys. The sun was down yet the joint was empty, except for a bearded man reading a newspaper and a young couple at one of the booths. My work fellas were busy discussing business:

"Stocks and bonds."
"Stocks and bonds?"
"Yes. Stocks for sure! Then bonds."
"I dunno. Bonds and stocks for me."
"Bonds and stocks?"
"Bonds and stocks."
"Mad man! Stocks, with bonds. At most."
"With bonds? Stocks, equal with bonds?"
"That's it. Stocks equal bonds."
"Stocks equal bonds? Or stocks equal with bonds?"
"This is all madness. Stocks and bonds!"
"Bonds should be so lucky to have that."
"Quite!"
"True, when put that way."
"Sorry fellas." I interrupted, 'I need to freshen up."

'I left the bar and made my way to the back where the washroom was back then. I was about to enter when a woman exiting from the kitchen bumped into me. She had chestnut hair, short and curly around her ears, wide green eyes and a long smile, like a kayak. With a smile she apologized, dusted off her white uniform and darted back into the kitchen.'

'Wait wait, dear chap. She was a waitress here?'
'Denny don't interrupt man!' Charlie scolded, whacking his friend on the leg with a coaster. 'You was sayin', Arch?'

'Right. So I was about to go on about my business when my eye caught something shiny on the floor. A ring. "She must've dropped it!" I thought. I headed back out to the bar and saw her speaking to the young couple in the booth. Ring in hand, I approached her.

"Hey, sorry I think you dro --"

'At first she smiled, but then seeing the ring her expression transformed into crisis. She looked me straight in the eye and shook her head just enough so I'd notice. The couple there noticed my  presence so I had to think of something.

"I mean uh... sorry could I... order another drink?"
"Sure! What would you like?" She asked through an awkward smile.
"Yeah! Um... gin and tonic?"
"Great! I'll bring it right over to you!"


'I sat back with my work fellas, but I realized being so close to that booth wasn't going to work. Instead I took a table in the back. A few minutes later the waitress came over, with a gin and tonic in hand.

"Oh my goodness, so sorry about that! Here, it's on the house."
"Don't worry about it."

'I handed her the ring. "I guess you don't want your friends to know you almost lost your wedding ring."
"Oh no!" She laughed. It was a short, sweet bursting laugh. "It's not mine. It's an engagement ring! Robert there is planning to propose."
"Shoot! I almost ruined everything! Sorry!"
"It's all right! You couldn't have known. I'm the one who dropped it after all! Oh goodness, Robert never would've forgiven me."
I sipped my drink and inquired: "Why do you have their engagement ring?"
"Because Jessica is the nosy type, ha. Robert thinks she'd find it somehow if he hid it at home, so he lent it to me until the right time." 
She leaned close to me to whisper: "He's planning on proposing tonight."
"Well."
"I know right!" She beamed. "I'm so happy for them!"
"Happy for who? What's going on back here?"

'See this whole time, we hadn't noticed Robert and Jessica wander from their booth and over to our table. And there we were, the secret ring visibly in her open hand, Robert looking at us in horror and Jessica eyeing it all suspiciously. The jig was surely up.

'Then suddenly, without warning, I was pulled into a face and kissed square and passionately on the lips. 

"Goodness yes! Yes! Of course yes! You've made me the luckiest girl in the world! Ahhhhh! This is the happiest day of my life!"

'She put the ring on her finger and happily kissed me again. Meanwhile her friends were very confused. Robert wanted to ask a question but then perhaps realized what was happening and backed off. After more kissing and believable tears they gave us some space. 

"That's some quick thinking." I said.
"This is so ridiculous. I can't believe you got so involved in this!"

'She blushed and smiled, looking upwards as though to ask the ceiling what could possibly happen next. It was adorable and I wanted to make her feel better.
 
"It's fine! Really! This is way better than what I'd be doing otherwise." I insisted, glancing over at my work colleagues who were playing cards at the bar.
"I can just explain everything to Robbie at the restaurant later and give back the ring then. We're all supposed to go together once my shift is up. Except... oh no..."
'I asked: "What?"
"Well, isn't it strange if I go with them alone now? Especially since they think they just saw me get engaged?"
"I... oh."
"It's okay, you don't have to keep this up. I'll figure out something out."

'Her back turned to leave. "Wait!" I said. "I'm happy to play along. Lets try this."

'She was skeptical, but agreed. I lingered for fifteen minutes until her shift was finished, and we went together back to the booth where her friends waited.

"Wait." She whispered before we arrived. "If we're supposed to be engaged, I think I need to know your name."
"Right of course." I whispered back. "I'm Archie."
"I like that name. I'm Martina."

'So we sat across from her friends, my arm awkwardly around Martina's shoulder and her hand awkwardly touching mine on the tabletop. Robert and Jessica asked a bunch of questions about how long we'd been dating, why they'd never met me --'

'Shoulda just said you were off to war, Arch!' Charlie interrupted. 'I used that one on Cristina all the time!'
'Still a surprise she ever divorced you, chap...' Denny remarked, his tone as dry as his martini. 
'Stop cutting in! Let Arch finish the story!' Shouted someone. And so Archie continued:

'Our answers weren't smooth, but somehow they seemed convinced Marti and I were actually an item. As the charade went on, my arm wasn't so weird on her shoulder and the touch of her hand on mine wasn't forced but comfortable. Robert and Marti went off together to freshen up before the dinner, and of course so she could give him the ring back and explain the truth to all of this. Jessica and I chatted about something I don't remember until they returned. Right then was also when my work folks were leaving the bar and saw me sitting next to an attractive woman.

"Archie! Hey hey!"
"Don't be up too late, we need you back tomorrow morning!"

'I laughed all this off, but nobody else did. Jessica was looking right at Martina, pointing at her hand.

"Where'd the ring go?"

'She had no answer and I didn't either. After all the wackiness I think we'd both just plain run out of ideas. Not Robert.

"It's right here." He said, pulling it from his jacket pocket and presenting it to Jessica. "And it's for you."

'I think a lot how none of this went as he planned, even so many years later. Here's a moment he'd planned for a fancy restaurant, over expensive wine and candlelight. Not in an dim basement pub with empty bottles of cheap domestic beer. But in that moment it didn't matter to him, this was the right time and place. I don't understand it but I admire it. Jess waited a shocked second before screeching "I will!" and there was a lot of kissing and hugging and the same stuff Martina and I had done an hour before. Except real. 

"That's how you really do it!" Jessica later joked. 

'We shared one last round before the lovebirds went off for that dinner. I walked Martina to the streetcar and we waited together under a streetlight.

"It was kinda fun having a fiance for a while, even a fake one ha ha!"
"I can see what the fuss is about." I smiled.
"Here's my train. Thanks again for everything. You're very sweet Archie."

'After a hug I watched her climb the steps and sit by the window. We waved again at each other as the streetcar sped away. Then she was gone.

The bar was silent for several seconds, waiting for more. 

'So... the end? Charlie asked.
'Yes.' Archie nodded, finishing his gin and tonic.
'No... kiss? Under the streetlight?' 
'Don't think so. No, definitely not.' Archie replied.
'No Shakesperean soliloquy, chap?' Dennis asked. 'Or a poetic farewell and promise to meet again?'
'None of that, no.'

The other regulars who had gathered for the story were clearly confused, looking into their drinks as though that could lend closure to the tale. Charlie was visibly the most so in this regard. 

'I'm real confused here, Arch. After all that, you didn't even ask her out?' He asked.
'Didn't seem like an appropriate moment, no.' 
'So then, chap. How'd you ever see her again?'

Archie tilted his head side to side and grinned oh so subtly, the singular time I've ever seen him do that.

'Well fellas, I did know she worked here. And well that wasn't my last time here, obviously.'

This made the bar go completely nuts with cheering. Dennis bought everyone one last round and shouted: 

'To The Thirsty, chaps! To friends and to dear Archibald here!' 

I worked countless wild Fridays and heard countless wild stories from all types of people, young and old, rich and poor. But never such a tale from such a man so reserved as Archie. The majority of words I ever heard him say come from that particular day, as though he saved them up for just that special occasion. And like how he found that ring on the floor, catapulting him into that story, I am also grateful to be just in the right place at the right time.

Old Slides And Swings

Here comes a fall again. I thought maybe today could be different, just once it wouldn't come. I leap in fear as somebody carrying a stuffed toy passes me from behind, but he's the only one nearby. At least I'm alone for this one.

Here's a place I remember well: younger times, before the falls began, the skipped classes, the yelling parents, the doctors' questions. The carefree days of a child's world. My playground, hidden off to the side of the school and away from the view of the streetwalkers. As this fall builds that old spot is where I find myself, tears forming and feet shaking. Still no one else around, only internal shame to accompany and deflect.

Here's a tall slide I scraped my knee on once. Still have the scar. One time a real doughboy slid down after me too soon and landed right on my back. Another time Sandy Carlson kissed me at the bottom, I thought it was super gross at the time. She moved away to Ottawa in Grade Four and I never saw her again. If only I'd had an option to bank that moment away. I could use that kiss right now.

Here's a set of swings now changed, reminding me of age. Too old to fit on these carefree flyers, too young to yet be called a man. I bat at the chains with my fingers, finding faint childish delight which slows my descent. Once my hands start shaking I'll stop. They've built a garden here now in the exact spot I used to land from the launch of a high swing. Somebody pushed me from the back once as I jumped, so I landed on my head. I chased that jerkwad around good until the teacher broke us up. We swore we'd settle the score after school. Simple schoolyard justice I long for you.

Here now it's too late. The fall hits hard and I'm buried in the sand, a mess of dirt and directionless emotion. Heartbeats speed up like we all did running out here for recess, and they slow like we did dragging ourselves inside when the bell rang. Now the bell rings in my mind and I only want the days of the past: free me from my recurring terror.