Another Day at the Office

It was another day at the office so to speak. I licked all six of my feet to make sure I had good traction on the slippery floor. The smell of Pine Sol mixed with stale beer wafted through the air, it had quite a bouquet.

Having been born in a train station with hundreds of my brothers and sisters we awoke to a world where humans were currently the dominant species. Given their propensity to violence, interpersonal grievances and ego I had no doubt that the current situation would not last much longer. Can you imagine honeybees starting a nuclear war? I think not. They would be too concerned with taking care of each other and the Queen to waste time on such a self defeating exercise.

Not long after I was born I heard a woman scream. She ran away, returning shortly with a man with green pants with cuffs and a large canister with a hose. Still screaming, the woman pointed down and the man sprayed us with some noxious liquid. Within seconds we were running in all directions for our lives. I saw many of my brothers and sisters die before my eyes but I just kept running and never did see my family again. All alone in this alien world I knocked around looking for a safe place to come in out of the cold and danger. Eventually I found this old man bar that looked like it would meet my needs nicely. It was not fancy, the décor kept to a minimum. During the day there were a cast of regulars who frequented the establishment religiously. There was the boilermaker crowd. A boiler maker consisting of a shot followed by a beer, they told a lot of war stories.

From my perspective, every day was like watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade march by with the huge balloons, but instead of floating by, my creatures had big clunky feet that could easily come down and crush me. I had to be very careful to stay out of the way when the bar was crowded. Mrs McGinty, a nice older woman ran the place. I never introduced myself for obvious reasons.

Christmas Eve, New Years eve and St Patrick’s Day were some of the epicurean highlights of the year. For Thanksgiving eve, Mrs McGinty put out a full spread for the old men during the day and repeated it again for the young crowd at night. Relative to their means everyone was very generous and appreciative of her effort since for many this was the only family gathering they would be attending.

One of the regulars was Old Pete he walked with a limp so you had to stay out of his way. He had an impressive set of teeth and between the gnashing and chomping, it looked more like a lion on the Serengeti with a newly acquired antelope than a man eating a roast beef hero. If he got riled up about politics or sports, there was a feast to be had between the limp, the gesticulating arms and the tearing apart of the meat.

Harvey was another story. He always marched into the bar with a racing sheet under his arm and a pencil behind his ear. The next sure bet was never far off. He was not a big eater, but did occasionally lose control of a beer nut while he was planning out his racing strategy, which made for a tasty treat.
Mrs Harris came to the bar every Thursday afternoon about 5pm, not for libations, but to get the pay check from Mr Harris in return for which she gave him $20 dollars. By six pm Mr. Harris would be deep in his cups, and without this visit there would be no food or rent money. The children waited at the front door.

The young crowd came on Saturday night they turned up the jukebox and sometimes danced with the energy of youth. Mrs McGinty put out special dips and snacks for them since they had different tastes. It was a nice change of pace when I got my turn at the leftovers. The bar closed at four in the morning and Mr Avon came in at four thirty to clean up, so I had to move quickly to secure my sustenance. One night I smelled gas in the back room after closing, but Mr Avon had not arrived yet. I could not smell the odor in the front room so I waited for the custodian where I knew that he would look. He came in and after a few minutes he looked my way and I ran as fast as I could to the back room ducking out of sight. Mr Avon followed with a paper to hit me but he was too slow. Soon he also smelled the gas and called the gas company and fire department.

I was a hero but nobody would ever know and it was just as well that way.

Jim – Jan. 2019