Story 1 Chapter 2: A small bar

Ding!

Clack

Stepping inside the bar, Albert walked towards the bar where an old man was cleaning the table. There were only a few customers, mostly male, who each drank silently. He sat down on one of the high chairs, staring at the selection of beers and wines.

"I'll have whiskey please. Just keep them coming." Albert slid a fifty dollar bill towards the bartender, the only person working at the place.

Taking the bill, the old man silently took out a glass cup, pouring ice and whiskey in. He slid it over to Albert, who took a sip, then another, and another.

"Haaaaa."

The whiskey was dry and spicy, stinging his throat as it went down. There was a slightly oaky aftertaste, reminding him of the bitter events that went down in the morning.

Clank

Albert put the now empty cup down, taking a breath. He pulled out his phone, sending a message to someone.

By the third cup, all of the customers had left. The old man could only watch as he tried to suppress his emotions, eventually failing as he burst into tears after drinking the fourth cup. Sighing, the old man prepared another cup of whiskey, holding it in front of him.

"You just got fired, right? Either that, or your lover left you. Which is it?"

Slightly drunk, Albert muttered "job" before downing the whiskey. He stuck out his tongue a little as if he was trying to air out the bitterness of alcohol. "More please."

The old guy sighed, pouring him another cup.

"What are you gonna do about this?"

Albert finished the cup in one go, causing his face to scrunch up as the strong whiskey taste overwhelmed him.

"Cry."

He crossed his arms, placing them on the table. He lowered his chin towards his arms, staring at the old man. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet with tears, holding the freshly refilled cup

The old man could do nothing but watch as Albert stared at him, hoping he would say something. Sighing, Albert simply sipped the whiskey, spilling a little bit on the table.

"I know you're a customer and I'm earning money off of this, but you should probably stop drinking. You're gonna have a massive hangover in the morning." The old man held the cup, unwilling to pour him more.

"I know. I don't care. More please."

The old man sighed again, placing extra ice into the empty cup.

"No more, okay? You're still young, you have a lot of options. Go find some other job to do while you sort things out."

"But college debt…"

"Everything is expensive these days. Don't worry about it. You'll eventually pay it off as long as you keep working. It's not the end of the world." The old man poured whiskey halfway up the cup, then handed it to Albert.

"My reputation though…" Albert gloomily took a small sip, then stuck his tongue out slightly.

"What about it?"

"She said she's gonna make my life a living hell… which means making everyone hate me. Uaaaghhh"

Samuel looked at Albert, slightly surprised he could think to this extent after drinking so much. 'This man… is he actually drunk? Or does he still function well after drinking? This is indeed a noteworthy achievement for him.'

For a few minutes, there was an awkward silence. Albert slowly drank the whiskey, tears streaming down his cheeks. Since there was nothing that could be said to comfort him, the bartender opted to stay silent.

When Albert was finished, the old man collected the cup and went to the cashier, giving Albert $5 in change.

"But Mr…"

"Davis. My name's Samuel Davis."

"Uh. Mr. Davis, the last two cups… and taxes… and service fee…" (1)

"That last cup wasn't even a full cup so I can't really charge you for that. Ignore the rest. You're gonna need the money to pay off your debt." Samuel answered, giving him a soft look.

"But what about you, Mr. Davis? You also need the money."

"Pah, forget it. I don't need much at my age. This place is gonna shut down soon, so it doesn't really matter how much I get. Socio-whatever it is covers my cost of living. You, on the other hand, need as much money as possible to survive." Samuel gave him the money, refusing his multiple attempts to drunkenly give it back to him. Samuel helped him out of the seat, forcing him out of the bar.

"Go home. It's way past closing time, and I need to sleep. Sort out your life, then go find another job. You'll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. I've already called a taxi for you, so you'll be fine."

Just as Samuel finished speaking, a taxi arrived in front of the shop.

"Take this young man home please." Samuel said to the taxi driver, helping Albert inside.

"Where does he live? I won't be able to drive him home without a location, Mr. Davis." The taxi driver asked.

"Where do you live, kiddo?"

"Xx street, xxxxx road xxxxx"

The man driving the taxi took out his phone, typing in the coordinates.

"All set."

"Make sure he gets there safely, mk? He has $20, which should be enough for the trip."

"Haha sure. I will. Take care, Mr. Davis."

"Sure sure. Don't spend all your money on drinks again."

"Haha. I hope business isn't too hard for you."

Samuel froze, creating an awkward tension. The taxi driver knew he messed up. After a short few seconds that felt like eternity, Samuel sighed, helping the almost asleep Albert into the car.

"I might be closing up in a month. Business is slow, and the alcohol is expensive. The customers say I just don't get them. I don't think I'm cut out for this job now that I'm old."

"Oh."

The taxi driver sat there in silence, unsure what to say.

Tak tak tak

Honk honk

"It's fine, Carl. I've been doing this for so long. It's time for another person to take up the job."

"There won't be another bar like yours, though."

"I know. Everyone has their own way of doing things."

*muffled noises*

"Have you thought about hiring someone?"

"Maybe. It wouldn't help if there were no customers, though."

"True. you'd just lose more money like that. Have you considered handing it over to someone else?"

"Yeah. bars like mine aren't popular nowadays. I think I should close this one."

"Maybe that's for the best. How's the Cafe, by the way?"

"Ah, the side project I was working on? It's surviving. Business is slow, but customers come. I wish there was a bit more variety, though. It's all old folks like me. Some of them complain that I don't get the tea right."

"Such a shame. I thought there would be more customers."

"Haha, not at all. It's hard to attract customers, especially the stingy Chinese customers that always complain that I don't know how to make it right. I haven't started selling coffee yet, I'm still trying to figure out the machines."

"Yeah. It's hard to open a cafe with only tea if you don't know how to make good tea. Why did you open it in the first place?"

Samuel froze for a moment, hesitating, coming up with a lie. This, of course, did not go unnoticed by Carl, who decided to play ignorant to spare the old man's feelings.

"An experiment. Plus, it's interesting, no? Different people have different tastes, which can help signify what type of person they are."

If it were anyone else, Carl might have believed it. Samuel, though? Carl knew that the old man would never do something like that, even though he was filthy rich. But he knew he would never get a proper answer if he kept questioning Samuel. It was best to wait.

Albert, who was in the backseat, started snoring a little. The two sober men sighed. Carl the taxi driver started the car, preparing to leave.

"Well I'll be off then. Stay safe, Sam."

"Take care, Carl."

The taxi drove off, carrying Albert home.

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Notes:

(1) Whiskey usually costs $2.50, although I'm not sure if the price rose due to inflation. He drank 6 cups with the last one being a half cup, but he's too drunk to notice.

(2) based on experience lol. Of course I'm exaggerating a bit but I have heard my grandparents complain about the tea(albeit quietly) and I myself have silently complained once in a while.