Chapter 3.1: Joe and Mike and Me

But I will still go out. There’s a game on at 12:30, beer to be drank, at the good dive bar down the street. Besides, who doesn’t want to see who is out drinking on Easter Sunday morning? The bar is almost empty. The same bartender and regular who were there Friday night are there again this morning. I can tell the regular because he’s drinking Bud Ice in a bottle. I didn’t even know they still made that. There’s a few guys at the top corner of the bar. This is a good scene for being shy. Except, one thing happens. I get…..social!

One of the things I like about this bar is how much empty space there is. I am sure it’s banging and all nuts to butts during the summer. Right now, I think there’s 4 other drinkers. Two guys at the top of the bar, close to the entrance, talking shop. One, the older, raspy voiced gentlemen is into construction. He is talking to a grey hair guy with glasses. Glasses is offering some sort of job. I am sure this happens a lot in resort towns this time of year. They are friends. One of them says something, and I respond! What is this madness! I am not even drunk, and I am talking to strangers! 

Even more shocking, we all share a laugh! Well, next thing you know, we’re all busting each other’s chops, cracking jokes. What is odd is that this sort of thing rarely happens to me. What is even odder is I am not feeling uncomfortable. I guess this is progress. Or maybe the beer one of them so kindly bought me kicking in.

We continue to talk like I am a regular, in a situation that to me, is highly irregular. Songs are played in the jukebox, more beers go around. This is such a strange feeling for me. I don’t feel judged, I don’t feel uncomfortable, I feel included. I continue to talk with Joe, he of the raspy voice. We’re talking, I don’t quite remember about what, not that I was drunk, because I really wasn’t, but because the flow was so quick and positive, I just kept going with it. He tells me he has esophageal cancer and that he maybe has a year and a half left.

Whoa. Left hook from right field. What do you say to something like that?

What do I say? I don’t know, maybe he is bull shitting me. The vibe I am taking away is that he really is not bullshitting me; he really is sick. Very sick. That’s quite a sobering moment to have in a bar. The first thought that hit me was. “Wow, this guy could be dying. He may not be here next Easter. And he’s buying me a beer.”

I don’t really remember what I said next. I put my hands on his shoulders and said something to the effect of, “I am so sorry to hear this. But if it makes any difference, I have been here for two days, and this time right here, has been the most fun I have had.”

That is certainly not going to make his situation any better. But if he understood my situation; shy awkward, insecure-if I could have explained that to him, maybe he would know this was kind of a big deal to me.

I soon found myself talking to Mike, he of the white hair and glasses. I forget what I said (again not drunk, just going with the flow) and it came out he was in the military. He didn’t strike me as military. When I told him I didn’t know he was in the military (like, duh, how was I supposed to know that) in cadence, he quickly spat out his name, rank and serial number. I was tending to buy it, but what’s not to say this isn’t two locals clowning the out of towner? I thank him for his service-cheesy thing to say, I know. He remains humble, but then he starts tearing up, because he lost friends. He gets a little choked up, far too quick if he was putting me on IMO. His reaction seems so genuine, and I am buying it.

The mood lightens, the laughs and music return. The game ends, and it is time to leave. I thank them for the laughs and hospitality. I leave, knowing I will never see those two again. And it kind of gives me perspective of my issues. Here are two guys, one who very well may be dying and the other one who very well may have seen death. And they bought ME beer. They hung out with ME. They, in their precious time, laughed with ME. I known there’s some sort of lesson in there, and I have been trying to figure it out every night since.