Highway 281
Piano Man
Brian walked to the bar on a quiet street in a small town in the Midwest. It was nine o’clock on a Saturday night and he was stuck here in Nowheresville having a night to kill. He thought back to that morning, waking up with Justin in his arms and then the leisurely couple of hours they spent lingering in bed before he had to be at the airport. It almost made these trips worthwhile just for the going away and coming home sex. He remembered once telling Michael that Justin almost wore him out. That was years ago, and he still did.
Before he could get too carried away with his memories, he brought his mind back to reality. Why in hell he had agreed to meet his prospective client in this little town on a Sunday morning was beyond him. No it wasn’t. The customer, or in this case the client, was always right. Whatever.
With a resigned sigh, he pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit room.
Where are the shirtless young men and the music …? Christ. A hetero bar in the middle of nowhere. This is what he got for wanting a drink and a new account. For not the first time, he wished he had brought his favorite blond with him.
He sighed and sat on a stool at the end of the bar. Taking a good look at those around him, he was surprised to see a pretty good crowd there this early. It wasn’t noisy, but a steady din of voices and pieces of conversations could be heard.
A waitress was flirting with a man in a business suit. The suit was definitely off the rack and his shoes were a little worn, but the waitress didn’t seem to care. And the man didn’t seem to mind her toothy grin and soft giggle.
An old man who had definitely seen better days sat hunched over, both arms resting on the bar, the glass before him, empty. Without asking, the bartender poured some more gin into his glass and added some tonic water. The old man held onto the glass with both hands as he stared into the clear liquid. What was going through his mind as his thumbs subconsciously caressed the sides of the glass? He finally brought the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. Brian fully expected him to down the shot in one gulp, but he didn’t. He savored the clear liquid like it would be his last and he wanted it to stay around for a long time.
Brian’s mind was still on the old man when the bartender came over to him wiping his hands on a bar towel. “What’ll it be?”
Brian got a good look at the barman, liking what he saw. “Your best bourbon. Make it a double.” The man nodded and walked away to get the drink, not caring that the well-dressed stranger was following him with his eyes.
A moment later another man came in. He greeted several of the customers then sat at the bar on the stool next to him. “Hey, John,” he called out.
The bartender looked up. “Hi, Bill.”
John nodded back and automatically poured another double from the same bottle he had just poured Brian’s and then carried both drinks to the end of the bar and set them down with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy, gentlemen.” Brian knew that wasn’t an invitation.
The new arrival held his glass up in a mock salute. “Haven’t seen you here before.”
“Haven’t been here before.”
“What made you grace us with your presence tonight? You don’t look like the usual customer here.”
“Business,” Brian said, not caring that he sounded a little snarky. “You seem to be pretty familiar with this establishment.”
“Guess so.” Bill took a gulp of his bourbon.
“John,” Brian nodded to the bartender, “doesn’t look very happy to be here. Is he always like that?”
“He’s a friend of mine; good guy really. He’d just rather be someplace else.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Brian said aloud then wrinkled his brow at the look he got.
“Went to California when he was younger; tried to make it in the movies. Didn’t work out. It’s not really a bad place once you get to know it; get to know the people. Besides, they have a great piano man.”
John refilled each of their glasses and Bill took his in one swallow.
“Piano man, huh?” He nodded toward the old upright piano at the far end of the room. “I thought that was just for decoration, you know, a little ambience.”
“Nope.” Bill stood. “Nice meeting you, man. Hang around for a while. You may be surprised.” He put out his right hand.
“It’s Brian.” They shook hands. “Heading home?”
“Work. It’s Saturday night.”
Instead of heading toward the door, the man known as Bill headed toward the other side of the room and sat down at the piano.
Brian let out a little laugh as the piano keys poured out a familiar tune; a sad, sweet tune that Brian knew a long time ago. He held his glass up in salute to the Piano Man.
But the Piano Man was lost in the song.
6/18/14