Brendan stepped off the stump on to a log. He walked along it for a few metres then hopped off on to the ground and headed back to the quad.
Lucy, Alistair, and Cameron kept planting
It was Friday night and I was in the the Commercial Hotel. I walked up to the bar and looked around as I waited to be served. I suddenly realised I hadn't phoned anyone in town yet. I'd been here for two days and hadn't tried to get in touch with anyone. I looked around the bar. If anyone I knew was in town there was a good chance they'd show up here. I wasn't sure whether I was hoping to spot someone I knew or just the opposite.
It was fairly early still, about eight o'clock. The band hadn't started playing yet. Both pool tables were busy but there were no coins on the edge of the table. The Commercial swings between biker-bar, student bar, business-suit bar, and neighbourhood pub depending on the season, time of day, and phase of the moon. It hadn't quite figured out what it was going to be tonight. Or, at least, I couldn't tell.
The bartender came over and stood in front of me across the bar. He had long hair and a beard with one long thin braid dripping down from his chin.
"Can I get a pitcher of Traditional and a glass, please?" I said.
He nodded, put a glass in front of me, and poured the pitcher. I gave him a twenty dollar bill and he brought back a five and four loonies. I left one of the loonies on the bar, put the other three in my pocket and the fivespot in my wallet. I tucked the glass under my right armpit and carried the pitcher over to an empty table with a view of the door and the stage.
I felt unsettled. My hand hurt and my body was wondering why it hadn't been planting trees for the last couple of days. My metabolism was still racing but my body hadn't had much to do except heal my broken hand. I was antsy. I took a couple of percocet and washed them down with beer.
I sat there and stared at the pitcher in front of me. It might be a bad idea to drink this much beer while popping serious pain killers, I thought to myself. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later I was feeling seriously drunk. This was a bad sign considering I'd only had one glass so far. If Tony didn't show up I could be in trouble. At least my hand didn't hurt any more.
I lurched to my feet and went to the bar.
"Two coffees please, with milk and sugar," I said. I decided the milk and sugar might help as well. Calorie consumption is key when you're trying to avoid getting completely plastered.
The bartender put the coffees on a tray and put the tray on the bar in front of me.
"Who's your invisible friend?" he asked.
"What?" I asked.
"He nodded at the two coffees and then at my table with the almost full pitcher of beer.
"Oh, both the coffees are for me," I said. "But I am planning to share the pitcher."
He nodded. "Want another glass, then?"
"No thanks," I said. "He might not show up."
I grabbed the tray with my left hand and balanced it with my right arm. It took definite focus to make it to the table without getting sidetracked.
I drank the two coffees sitting at my table, staring intensely at the door. If Tony didn't show up I was going to have to drink this pitcher by myself. It might not be the best of ideas, but a man's got an obligation when he buys a pitcher of beer.
Tony showed up when I was about half way into my third glass of beer. I waved as he walked past the pool tables and held the pitcher aloft. It felt surprisingly light.
Tony waved back, but instead of coming straight to the table he stopped at the bar. I was distracted by the lightness of the pitcher so it took me a couple of minutes to realise what he was up to. I put the foolishly light pitcher down on the table and ran to the bar. I was too late to prevent him from asking for another pitcher but I wasn't too late to add a couple of coffees to the order.
"Two coffees?" Tony asked.
"I just don't want to be inattentive," I said.
"Yeah, you nodded off a bit on the bus, now that you mention it," he said. "Maybe you have narcolepsy. I worked with a guy who had that. He used to fall asleep in meetings all the time when I was talking to him."
"No," I said. "It's not that. It's the drugs. I took a couple of painkillers and the beer was making me dozy."
"Well, good to see you," he said. "How's your hand? I see you still don't have a cast. Maybe it wasn't really broken. Men have a much lower pain tolerance than women."
"No," I said. "It's definitely broken. Should we sit down?"
I tucked Tony's glass under my armpit and carried the pitcher back to the table. He brought my coffees over. Without thinking about it, I filled both of our glasses from his pitcher and took a drink.
"I thought you were going to have coffee," he said.
"Oh shit!" I said. I took a big slurp from one of the coffees. It was hot. I turned to the side and spewed the coffee out on the carpet, then drained my beer. "Ah, fuck it!" I said. Must not panic. Keep things simple, that's the key.
"You are one entertaining guy," said Tony. "You should be in the circus."
One of the bouncers came over to our table and looked us up and down. I smiled and tried not to vibrate or lurch.
"The coffee was hot," Tony said. "He has a broken hand."
The bouncer took a step closer.
"I think he has narcolepsy," added Tony.
The bouncer looked at Tony. He looked at me. I smiled.
"Just don't spit anything else on the floor," the bouncer said. He walked back to his position by the door.
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