Behind Bars

BEHIND BARS

“Jen, this is Alicia, the new barmaid, show her the ropes will you?”

         “Sure,” I responded with about as much enthusiasm as a prisoner on Death Row.

         I looked Alicia up and down; I’d give her five. Five minutes that is. Five minutes before she walked out of this God forsaken hole. Like me, she probably thought she’d struck lucky when she answered the eye-catching advert in the local rag.

         ‘Smart barperson required for evening work in the most prestigious, select bar in town.’ It actually meant, ‘ Drudge needed to take abuse from local pond life in seedy fleapit.’

         After I’d shown Alicia the basics we stood behind the bar like a pair of lemons.

         “You must meet some interesting people in here,” Alicia managed finally.

         “Oh yeah, I’ll give you a guided tour if you like. See the fella by the door? That’s Hans – Hans Everywhere; in-house pickpocket and groper. If he doesn’t like what he finds in your underwear he’ll help himself from your pockets.”

         “But I thought you had Bouncers here?”

         “Oh we do, but they fell off the wrong Rubber Tree. Put it this way, customers are so scarce around here they wouldn’t turn Harold Shipman away if the bar was full of widowed old ladies.”

         “What’s the matter with her?” Alicia asked, pointing to the peroxide blonde with her head in her hands.

         “Oh, that’s the Manager’s wife Jo, also known as ‘Not tonight’ Josephine. Always got a headache he says. Mind you I’m not surprised the amount of Bloody Mary's she knocks back. Have to say though, she didn’t look like she had a headache last night when I caught her out the back with Bill the bouncer and it certainly didn’t look like her head she had in her hands from where I was standing.”

         “Well, the lady in the suit looks respectable anyway.” Alicia tried again.

         “You mean Snotty Totty? Oh yes, very upwardly mobile that one. Mobile being the operative word; sends herself text messages all night. Phone in one hand, laptop in the other, nose in the Guardian pretending she’s studying stocks and shares.”

         “Is she in business then?”

         “Oh yes, she picks up a lot of trade in here. That’s her manager over there, he’s a pimp.”

         “Care to buy a sick man a drink love?” Alicia turned and smiled sweetly at the old man propping up the bar. Or was that the bar propping him up? Alicia looked towards me; I shrugged as she refilled his glass.

         “That’s Mr Dead by the way,” I told her later. “First time I met him he told me he had three months to live. I bought him a few drinks to drown his sorrows. That was four years ago.”

         “But he told me even surgery couldn’t help him.”

         “I know. They tried giving him anaesthetic but they still couldn’t get into his wallet. I’ve never seen him buy a drink yet.”

         Alicia gazed over at an alcove, then adjusted her straps and smoothed her hair.
“Who is that? He’s absolutely gorgeous.”

         “Who? Mr Muscle? Impressive on first sight I’ll admit. Works out every day, body of Adonis, it’s a shame really.”

         “What is?”

         "Well, put it this way Alicia, the only piece of equipment that would enhance what he keeps in his boxer shorts would be a magnifying glass. Trust me love, you’d get more satisfaction cleaning your oven.”

         “There’s a bloke just come out the gents flying low,” Alicia giggled. “Think I should go and give him a hand?”

         “Up to you love, but Flash Harry isn’t interested in girls if you know what I mean. You get used to him coming out the little boy’s room in that condition after a while, though I wouldn’t advise you to go cleaning in there when he’s in residence, you might get a nasty shock.”

         “Should that young boy be in here?” Alicia asked, rapidly changing the subject. “ He doesn’t look old enough.”

         “No he isn’t, but if he’s not within reach of alcohol, nicotine or narcotics he gets a panic attack. I can’t turf him out, a heavy dose of oxygen could finish him off.”

         “Poor kid, how did he get in that state? He must come from a lousy family.”

         “Yeah, his dad was just like him.”

         “You know his father?”

         “I was married to his father for five bloody years.”

         “So, you’re his mother?”

         “You catch on fast girl. And don’t start telling me what a terrible mother I am, I may not know what planet he’s on but at least I know where he is at night. After all, this is the most prestigious, select bar in town.”

         “Where’s Alicia?” asked the manager, emerging red faced and ruffled from the Gents, winking at Flash Harry as he hurried to the bar.

         “Dunno,” I replied, feigning concern“ She just put her coat on and left. Maybe someone said something she didn’t like.”