the Other Side of the Bar.
The first time I saw him, we were both at a bar. I was at one end – and he at the far other.
He pulled his wallet out as the bartender watched him – and grimaced. It was evidently empty, because he half stood and put his wallet back into a worn pocket in his jeans.
He sat down and I watched him as he stared and stared at his ale. The noise was deafening but I could almost hear what he was thinking. I was probably totally wrong – but everything about him just said, “Fuck this.”

The lines on his face were of misery – I couldn’t see much in the way of a set of crows feet, or a dimple around the mouth. The hard, thinned set of his lips never changed, even as I watched him take a long draught from his glass. His hands wrapped around the glass as though it was his lifeline. His shoulders were bent forward, and his head was hanging low – as though he hated the fact he was here in this bar, but couldn’t think of a reason to leave anyway. I couldn’t see his eyes.

The bartender was suddenly in front of me. I looked over at the hunched man and my heart ached.
“Two Strongbows please.” blurted out of my mouth, as my hand jerked towards the man at the other end. The barman raised an eyebrow as I put the money on the counter, but dutifully filled two glasses, placing one in front of me, and the other in front of the man I’d indicated.
I watched at he slowly looked up at the barman, who nodded at me, and I felt my lips pull themselves into a small smile. The man’s face turned towards me in the dim light of the bar and for an instant – he was totally naked. He really was miserable. His eyes looked so defeated all I could think was I’m not alone. He’s the same.. The look of defeat changed to anger briefly before faltering. He stared at me for a long moment, before raising his glass.

I raised mine – and we toasted and drank in silence. My eyes never left his face – and although it was dim in the noisy and overcrowded bar – I’m pretty sure his eyes never left mine either. He kept drinking the cider – and when he finished, he stood up.
Tall man, I had thought. He made his way gradually through the knots of people to stand in front of me. I sat in silence – unsure of what to say.

Then his lips were on mine. They were rough, like his chin, which until then I hadn’t noticed was darkened with day old stubble, and tasted like the cider I had bought, and faintly of cigarettes and mint. His body was warm, underneath my hand, his waist was firm. He smelled like an old fashioned aftershave, with the haze of the bar somehow imbibed into his clothes, which created a musky, woody scent. Then it was over. He was the tall man again. His eyes, which I’d never noticed until now, were brown around the irises, and bloodshot in the whites, which were steadily being filled up by salty and traitorous tears.
He turned and walked out the door.

I didn’t quite realize what I was doing until my hand was on the door handle, and I was outside, the cool air caressing my skin. I looked around, and saw him leaning against the wall, eyes closed.
Quietly, I walked over and stood next to him, and slipped my hand into his, feeling the warmth from him sink into my skin.

“Thank you.” I heard him whisper.
(Poppet some assembly required., Tue 10 Feb 2009, 6:43, 11 replies)

I know
that I wrote this earlier - but it was from HIS perspective.

I wanted to try out what it was like from hers and here is the result.

Not sure if that's allowed but that's just what happened.
So.... I hope you enjoyed it :)
(Poppet some assembly required., Tue 10 Feb 2009, 6:44, closed)

cool
again, this one is better than all the bad puns.

more please?
(Halfy By light alone, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 8:27, closed)

more??
/perplexed

well I don't know what to write about now.
(Poppet some assembly required., Tue 10 Feb 2009, 8:49, closed)

From the barman's point of view!
Or from the POV of one of the pints of strongbow.
( uberdeity Wondered why Owen Lars knew of the term "hell" on, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 10:59, closed)

When writing...
Let the mind wnder where it will. Unhook your critical mind and let imagination drive the fingertips like an off duty angel drives his beloved Alpha Spyder down the old crooked backstreets of Naples.
Write with passion, with love, and with just the faint hint of trepidation about what you might say next.
Then go back afterwards and fix the typos
Sez I, and of course I know everything me.
( DukeEuphoria Comes highly reccomended, Thu 12 Feb 2009, 12:42, closed)

That's lovely that is.
Click.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 8:50, closed)

sounds like a couple who will have a torrid, exciting, unforgettable
love affair then erupt in a blaze of acrimony.

You should write that.
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 9:39, closed)

Only slightly disappointed...
I'd expected it to be about two girls.. Is lovely though!
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 9:39, closed)

Next time I see a miserable person sat at a bar I shall buy them a drink.
I'll probably pick the local nuttter but what the hell.
( girlinthehole, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 10:19, closed)

You've started me off
OH no. I''ve got ideas running around in my head about writing again and it's all your fault.
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 11:20, closed)

That...
... was absolutely beautiful. Well done.

*clicks*
(Hyperion Boldly went where... everyone, has gone before, Tue 10 Feb 2009, 14:00, closed)