“So this is the place?” I mutter to myself.
SLAM
The door to my car shuts loudly behind me, as I observe the fabled AB&G establishment that has been talked about over and over again by my colleagues the past few weeks. “Not the easiest place to locate“ I think to myself recollecting on how my GPS took me on a marry-go-around tour of the surrounding area before I finally was able stumble upon the bar.
I check my phone and see Tango texted me 40 minutes ago. “Just take a right past the Exxon gas station” it reads.
“Right…what about that other right you were supposed to tell me about amigo..” I scoff. I make a mental note to myself to never rely on Tango for directions ever again (lol j/k). I hesitate for second, wondering if this is a mistake. I‘ve become somewhat familiar with the people here sure, but enough so to mingle with them after hours…that’s another matter entirely different. I think about all the possible things that could go wrong. A fight maybe. Rejection. Fear that quite possibly this place won’t live up to its reputation as being…well a certain type of place. I finally collect a pair, and make my way inside. Pushing through the door, the first thing that hits you is the smell. It’s not your typical alcohol stink, mixed with tobacco smoke smell. No, what you smell is instantly recognizable. It’s the type of smell that causes your heart to skip a beat, and palms to get sticky with sweat. The smell…it’s what men like me are drawn to. Like leaving a bloodied cloth out in the open, for a pack of wolves to sniff out.
Slowly, I scan the room, looking for anyone familiar. I spy the only person I know, Mason, sitting casually by himself, conversing with who appears to be the bartender of this place.
“Well, same boat as me.” I smile, thinking it’s fortunate to not be the only one here looking for…well.
The other patrons here eyeball me, pausing for a moment to take me in. I figure I must look like a fish out of water to some of these people. Wearing just a simple white t-shirt with faded blue jean pants, I seem like your average young man. My hair, disheveled somewhat but more or less, well maintained and slightly parted to the side…you’d have to wonder what would cause anyone to stare. Well, taking a look at my arms would explain why. I sport some noticeable tattoo’s, with one arm displaying spider webbing that runs from the elbow down to my wrist, and the other arm with what appears to be a random assortment of scrolls, and text.
“Maybe I should turn back” is all I can think, stopping dead in my tracks.
“Hey young un.” I suddenly hear. I turn my gaze to the bartender. “Are you lost?” he asks, while cleaning a glass.
“Not at all. Just taking it all in.” I reply. He jokingly looks around then returns his gaze back to me. “Well, why don’t you take a seat while you ‘take it all in‘. Unlessin’ you feel you’ll get the best view of the place standing right smack in the middle of the place.”
I shake my head, feeling a little embarrassed. So much for a good first impression. I scurry myself to the counter, before finally sitting on a bar stool. I place myself one stool apart from Mason. Not because I have anything against the guy. I just believe in giving another man his space. Also, judging from his body language, it seems he came here for the same reasons I came. I give him a simple head nod, as I rest my arms atop the counter.
The bartender comes over placing both his hands on the counter. “What’ll be son?”
“Bourbon neat.” I reply as clamp both my hands looking over my shoulders.
“I.D son.” I jerk my head back and stare at the bartender, who looks at me with a cold stare.
“Right..” I reply back, as I scramble for my pockets.
The bartender’s stoic gaze suddenly breaks, as a wide smile cracks across his face. “Ah, kid, I’m just yanking your chain. Alright, Bourbon neat. I hope you can handle it straight.” he says with a grin, as he pours me the drink.
I finally begin to relax, chuckling underneath my breath. “I think I’ll be able to manage.” I answer back, as I retrieve my glass.
He laughs, folding his arms while observing me drink. “You’re that new kid. Hukk right?”
The sting of the Bourbon causes me to pause for a second. I finally clear my throat and answer back. “Yep. AHEM *clearing my throat*. That’s me.”
“Yea, I’ve heard of you. Funny guy. A smartass…but funny.” he says, still having his arms folded.
“Thanks..” I reply meekly, continuing to savor my drink.
“Names Joe son.” he says, nodding his head.
“Pleasure sir.” I respond, smiling back as I drink.
He seems to study my tattoo’s for a quite awhile, not saying anything else. I begin to feel nervous again, aware of his curiosity with my tattoo’s. He suddenly leans over, placing both is arms on the counter. “You know, I got a tattoo also.” He begins. I look up, showing a puzzled expression. “Oh..?”
“Yep.” he says, as he begins to roll up his sleeve. I drink my glass patiently as he shows me a small tattoo placed on his arm that reads “USMC.”
“USMC?” I ask inquisitively. “It’s United States Marine Corps son. Got it when I was on a tour in Iraq during desert storm. I was a bit old for it at the time, but hell…I figured never too old for some things right?” he says, winking back.
I break a smile, as I observe his tattoo.
“Really good one sir“ I remark.
Joe provides a hearty laugh, slapping the counter lightly. “Relax kid. Don‘t think you‘re the only who‘s a little different.” he says, as he rolls up his sleeve. Joe slowly begins to walk away, still chuckling before finally attending to Mason once again.
His words manage to finally get me at complete ease. “I guess this is the right place after all..” I whisper to myself as I await what other secrets will reveal themselves to me on this night.
