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 |  It’s basically my brain vomiting through my fingertips. Bring a poncho. Splash zone… |
| I’m the kind of guy we all look at and unintentionally describe as “Oh, bless his heart”… |
| Afraid of what could go wrong when asked to close down the bar for the first time, tears begged to form as I locked the door. With the last patron gone and not much else to do besides basic clean-up, I turned back to the bar and snatched a towel and the spray bottle of bleach, and then I started wiping down the tables. Andre's, a bar for writers looking for equally-yolked conversation, isn't difficult to clean, and with no mishaps through the might, all I wanted to do was clean the place up and get myself out of there. Any place, even Andre's, can be creepy when empty. I only had a couple of tables left, was working my way to the darkest corner of the room when the overhead music came on. the Muzak version of "Gin and Juice", a Snoop Doggy Dogg song from the early nineties. My brow was cool and damp, and I was aware of the weight my bones upheld, aware of the energy the room now supported. I swiveled, pivoting on my own terror with bleach bottle raised in defense. No matter what was coming to pull me to the fiery depths, it would, after I was done, be clean enough to eat from. But there was nothing there, no fangs, no claws...nothing. I inhaled and giggled at my own silly cowardice before returning to my work. I remember spraying my towel with cleaner, and I bent to wipe down the table, and that's when things became hazy. No, really. I spun around when the organic fog was gliding across the floor, dancing around Chair legs and across the booths. I followed it, exploring where it was coming from when the door to the men's bathroom burst open. Light emanated from behind a figure, an eerie green glow lighting up the restroom. The back-lit monster. complete with horns as it puffed out an ominous s'moke, moved forward, nearing me too quickly. I ran, but I couldn't get around one of the chairs, my legs twisting with the wooden ones as flipped myself and tossed the chair, my face scraping the textured tile. I was on the floor, reaching until I hurt for anything I could use to save my life. A giant hand clapped my back, a startling but not uncomfortable feeling as I work to understand. "Ease up, lil homie!" Snoop Dogg said, his smile revealing his teeth. "I was just using the toshizzle, my man. I'm on my way back to da bus." "Uh, I feel I'd regret this later if I didn't ask, but-" "What's on your mindizzle?" "What's the secret of life?" I asked. He smiled." Whatever you do, baby, drop it like it's hot while sippin' on gin and juice." I wanted to laugh until he blew away like smoke. I later asked to see the surveillance video from the bar, but there was nothing but old-fashioned tv snow. For "Invalid Item"  by A Guest Visitor , 496 wds. |
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