My Introduction

by Zen Master

Copyright© 2012 by Zen Master

Flash Story: What I wrote as my first entry, to introduce myself back in 2006.

Tags: Humor  

Okay, the notwork is up, the server and all three workstations are good, most of the books are unpacked, the waterbed is filled and heating up...

... Beer. A house is not a home without beer in the fridge. Crap. Well, I may as well check out the bar down the street. "The Tavern" I could handle; it doesn't matter if the management has no imagination, as long as the regulars have such -and the management doesn't get in their way. Still, "La Taverna" sounds like it's run by illegal emmigrants with no imagination and no English-speaking staff, either.

Shouldn't be a problem. You don't have to know much Spanish to get drunk or laid, if you're willing to be pleasant. "La Ovella Negro, una taverna rustica" in Barcelona didn't have any English-speaking staff, did it? And I'm free. Wasn't my idea, but we were both pretty unhappy. It's better in the long run.

Huh? Well, there's an awful lot of cars here for them to be closed. No, it's not locked, and the hinges are on this side, so, yeah, I'm sposta pull ... Jeez, this door is heavy!

Good. They understand "light switch", at least. To quote Spider Robinson, 'people who drink in the dark are unstable'. Now, why am I thinking of Callahan's Bar?

Okay, the bar's over there... "Una cerveza, por favor! Hablaste Ingles?"

"Uh, do you speak English"?

Exactly. "Yes, that's what I said. Waddya have on tap?"

The bartender waves at a respectable line of taps. "They're all labelled. They all work."

"Uh ... Let's start with the Amber Bock." ... Which always reminds me of FLEM's 'Dog Cock Bock', but the 'tender probably wouldn't understand the reference. Let it go...

"Okay, you want the weenie-size glass, or the man-size mug?" he says with a grin.

A challenge, or just breaking the ice? A quick look around. A couple of people are looking at 'the new guy', but most are doing their own thing. I make a show of stepping back, pulling my belt buckle out, and looking at my crotch. "I'll do the 'man-sized mug'. How much you asking?"

"Five bucks. A refill is four."

"Okay, here. Thanks."

Okay, now that I'm properly armed, I can turn around and look at the tenants...

(I have a drinking problem. It's not alcohol related, it's a fluid intake thing. Growing up in a hot climate, spending 20 years in hot machinery rooms, I just emotionally need to be holding a drink to be comfortable. Beer is my first choice, but a mixed drink is good, and if I'm working then coffee, Coke, or water will do. I'm not gonna ask for a cup of coffee at a bar. Back in the '80's I had a skin disorder that looked like leprosy but wasn't; it got tracked down to caffeine overload; it's in my navy medical record. The doctor told me I needed to "Cut back on the coffee and drink something harmless, like beer". Unfortunately, he was smart enough to not put that part of his instructions on paper, so no one believes me when I tell them.)

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