Bad Date

 

                The jukebox in the corner of the aging bar played a few crackling tunes as we entered. The light from outside the bar sliced through the dark interior like a laser. A great blast of sunshine disturbed the general dankness of the place, before being swallowed back up by the dark. 

                “I love dive bars,” said Mary as we stepped in and up towards the bar.

                “I think this is a hole in the wall, not a dive,” I said.

 

                She nudged me in the arm. I didn’t want to seem disinterested or nervous. 

                I looked around for a bartender but there didn’t seem to be one around. An older man at the end of the bar was thoughtfully chewing on a small black drink straw. He was staring at Mary.  I gave him a nod, to let him know that I saw that he was looking. He nodded in the slightest way and then returned to his small rocks glass. 

                “Look at all the old beer advertisements,” said Mary, “So many!” 

                I nodded and looked up at the walls, plastered with Schlitz and Lone Star and Hamm’s ads. An old Schlitz Tiffany style lamp burned a yellowed bulb in the corner. 

                “Yeah, lots of old ads for sure,” I said.

                “I wonder if they have any of those actual beers,” said Mary. 

                I looked at Mary. It was our first real date, other than a few email exchanges. She was cute but not overly and embarrassingly so. She seemed to like me, so I was happy to go with her to this strange new bar. 

                A large woman came out from the back side of the bar, through a small swinging door that looks to lead somewhere into the netherworld. She saw us and I nodded. The woman barely reacted but did start to move slowly towards us. She grabbed a bar towel as she walked forward and slung it over her exposed, but heavily tattooed shoulder. It was clear that she had gotten the tattoo as a younger woman, as the weight she now carried in her arms had seemingly stretched the image out into some unrecognizable pattern. She looked like the heartbreaks she had suffered in her life had been drawn deeply into her heavy face, pulling her mouth down into a semi-permanent frown.   

                “Can I get you something,” she asked. 

                I ordered something simple, just a bottle of light beer. Mary ordered the same. 

                The bartender placed our drinks in front of us and walked back towards the strange swinging door nether region from which she came.   

“This place has so much character,” said Mary. 

I took a nervous swig from my beer and nodded. 

“I’m going to check out the bathroom. I bet it’s hideous,” said Mary and she scooted out her barstool and went in search of the bathroom. I took another sip from my beer. I looked around the bar and saw that there was a dingy film on all the windows and the tables. There was dust spinning from cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and I was pretty sure I could smell mold. I looked at the old man again. He was staring at me. 

“It’s cursed you know,” he said in a raspy voice.

            “Cursed? The bathroom,” I asked, gesturing my thumb in that direction.

 

                The old man rolled his eyes at me and went back to his drink.

                 “I’m sorry. You mean the bar is cursed,” I asked.

                 The old man nodded and with a thin bony finger pointed up at the wood frame over the bar top. Carved into the wood was a long phrase in Latin.

                 I looked up at the thick dark wood and the words carved in it: Haec anima, sicut intus inclusa, incarcerata, nullam lucem videt, nec recreationem habet, sic anima, mens, corpusque Collectiorum, quod Agnella peperit, aequaliter clauditur, et in interitum labitur.

                 “That Latin? I don’t read Latin,” I said as I started to feel foolish for letting Mary talk me into deviating from some normal drinking spot so we could go to this hole in the wall; which she swore she had passed by a million times but never really noticed.

                 “It means, just as this soul, when confined within, when incarcerated, sees no light, and has no recreation, so the soul, mind, and body of the Collectii, which Agnella gave birth, is equally enclosed, and falls into ruin,” said the bartender as she reappeared behind the bar. For a larger woman she was very light on her feet.

                 “What does it mean though,” I asked, already dreading the answer. While also slightly concerned that Mary hadn’t come back from the bathroom yet.

                 “It means then when you’re in here, you’ll never see the light of day again and you’ll rot right along with this very bar and go mad,” said the bartender, with the first hint of a smile.

                 “How very Hotel California,” said Mary as she reappeared in the barstool next to me, “I love dive bar lore. I should do a sociological paper on it.”

                 “Mary,” I said, leaning in towards her ear, “I think we should get out of here.”

                  Mary looked at me as if she didn’t understand.

 “Leave,” she asked, “But, I love it here. So much charm and personality.”

 She leaned forward, putting her hand on my knee.  The weight seemingly impossible for her small frame.

 “Ow, you’re hurting me,” I said, trying to move her hand away.

 She smiled at me and I saw the damnation flickering in her pupils. I looked to the bartender, whose small smile was now a fang filled curl, the old man was still just an old man and he just shook his head.

 “They got another one,” he said and took a drink, “damn them.”

 I pushed my barstool back and I was able to get out from under the weight of Mary’s arm. She lunged forward and I ducked, stepping back towards the old crackling jukebox. Which suddenly came to life, piercing the quiet with a loud electric thud sound.

 “Where are you going,” asked Mary.

 “I think this date is over,” I said.

 She chuckled as me and put a hand on her hip.

 “This date is never going to end,” she said, as she made another attempt to grab me.

 I turned toward the door and ran as fast and I could. I pulled the door open and another hot beam of sunlight burst into the room. Mary and the bartender screamed and turned away. I threw myself through the doorway and fell onto the hot afternoon baked sidewalk. I squinted at the bright sunlight and looked back towards the direction I had come and the bar was just gone. Vanished. And no one else on the street even seemed to notice.  It was as if it was never there at all.

                                                 __________________________________

 Brad looked at me as I finished telling my story.  He wiped the corner of his eye and leaned forward.  I looked at him,

 “So yeah, that’s a terrible first date, but I think I can top it,” said Brad.