Leaked

The bar felt empty and cold. Even as the doors and windows were closed, wind went through the cracks and near narrow spaces, letting itself get inside.

The bartender was tired after a long day at work. It had always been like this. Clock in the morning, work until the evening, and settle down at night before going home again. Repeat.

He was wearing the usual outfit, a white shirt and tie, but everyday was a different shirt and tie. It was just a formality of his choice. Everyday in particular he had to always wear that black apron because the last thing he needed was an accident involving spilled alcohol. Spilled alcohol, as wasteful as spoiled milk. The only difference being that alcohol was the drink of the adult man or woman, and all is well until you got that one person drowning in their sorrows and never coming back to surface.

The most recent customer wearing a blue shirt was sleeping on the counter.

"Hey." He said to the customer in a polite manner. "I'm about to close."

Blue Shirt woke up and his eyes looked at the man in front of him. "Any chance I could get another drink?"

The bartender had managed many people, but even he knew that customers rarely ordered just 1 drink. The average was 2 to 3. Sometimes if there's a group of people, it's 5 to 6. He took Blue Shirt's money bill reluctantly, and gave him another bottle of Bir Bintang.

"Not gonna drink sir?" Blue Shirt asked as the bartender brought up another bottle. "Oh."

"Once in a while I do this." The bartender said. "Don't tell anyway."

"Competition?"

"Pardon?"

"How about a drinking competition?"

"No." The bartender furrowed his eyebrows. "You've probably had too much before now."

"But if you don't then I'll take forever to drink."

"Let me guess. Bad day?"

Blue Shirt nodded.

"Don't let a bad day be an excuse for you to drink. Last time I met a guy like that he ended up in the dumpster just outside back."

Blue Shirt nodded. "Noted. So? Drinking competition?"

I suppose I'll entertain him, the bartender thought. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can go home.

And so the drinking began. The bartender lifted up his bottle, drinking at a decent pace. His eye caught Blue Shirt drinking his bottle upshot, a chug down. Blue Shirt's gulping was as loud as a ringtone, and it buzz through the bartender's ears.

Blue Shirt slammed his empty bottle onto the counter, rising a fist into the air. "That felt good." He said as he began to get out of his seat.

"Hang on." The bartender reached out as Blue Shirt stepped on his loosened footlace. His body fell down toward the wooden floor, landing on his stomach, with his face hitting the floor soon after.

"Damn." the bartender said as he went over to Blue Shirt. "You ok-"

Blue Shirt guy rose up and looked at the bartender, before looking down at his stomach. The nail's tip was seen on his stomach, puncting deep into his nearby organs. Blue Shirt sighed in disbelief as the bartender's face turned from surprised to terrified.

"NO WAIT" the bartender exclaimed as Blue Shirt took out the nail and beer spewed out of his stomach. It looked like he was taking a piss, only it was beer and it came from his stomach.

"Phew." Blue Shirt said in relief. "That was a doozy." He then went out of the bar.

The bartender folded his arms, shaking his head. "I'll just be heading out myself now."