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Unexpected Encounters | Open Starter
Category: Stories
UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTERS
Nah, f*** you man. F*** outta’ here with that sh*t.”
Waving off the man with a scowl, Christoph turned back toward the bar and continued to swear under his breath. Black-booted feet kicked up a bit of sawdust off the dark hardwood floor with every shuffled step amid a sea of idle bodies. As he passed a group of yuppie-lookin' young 20-somethings Chrishoph cast a sideways glance at the beers in their hands and the laughter that spread from mouth to mouth like a fast-acting air-born contagion. For as long as he’d been coming to this bar people like them had slowly been taking it over night-by-night in droves of pastel dress shirts, high-waisted jean shorts, and layered open flannel button-downs. Fewer locals came through anymore, pushed out by these fresh college grads and NYU students that had somehow discovered one of Christoph’s regular haunts.
F*** ‘em.
Christoph’s shoulder collided with one of the men and he barely turned back to offer anything more than an unforgiving shrug. More upset with the growing stain over his breast pocket, it took the young man a few extra moments before he thought to look around for the man that ran into him. Fortunately, a few moments were all Christoph needed to pull up the collar of his leather jacket up above his neckline and disappear back into the shifting crowds that filled the dimly lit space. .
After a few strides and one more glance over his shoulder Christoph confirmed he’d lost the group and changed course to take up residency on an empty bar stool just as a couple pushed signed check across the bar’s polished wood countertop. In a swift motion he pulled the black leather jacket from his shoulders and draped it over the empty seat next to him at the far end of the counter. It wouldn’t hold off people for long, but it was worth the hassle in case his ex-girlfriend managed to show after all or a more eligible lady came around looking for a seat by herself. Drumming his fingers against one of the woodgrains in front of him Christoph couldn’t decide which he’d prefer. Either way, the trap was set; now there was nothing to do but wait and see where the night would lead.
Previously hidden under his jacket as a strong contrasting color, Christoph’s vanilla-yellow button-down now took front stage and screamed for attention with an array of black, white, blue and orange floral patterns. Hanging from the V at the center of his chest was a pair of matching orange tinted gold aviators that had long outlived their usefulness now that night had overtaken the city. For as much as he knocked on the millennial crowd that filled his bar, many would probably be forgiven for mistaking him and his slicked back crop of hair as part of their ranks. Maybe not by him, but certainly by any casual onlooker at the very least. .
Taking a moment to lock eyes with a familiar bartender and give the man a curt nod of his stubbled chin Christoph was already fishing a black leather trifold wallet from the back pocket of his equally dark jeans. Two fingers flashed in the air followed by a single finger once his nod was returned and the wallet returned to his pocket one twenty-dollar bill lighter. Within the next couple minutes there were a pair of amber-colored shots alongside a tall golden hefeweizen. Reaching for a shot first Christoph tilted his head back and raised the short glass to his lips in a single swift motion. A later start to be sure, but one Christoph wasn’t about to squander.
The twinge of smoke bit at the back of his throat behind the burn of cheap well liquor even after the second glass was emptied and thrust down against the counter. Exhaling, Christoph grabbed for the frosted pint next and turned his attention upward toward the deep wood racks stuffed with bottles of every shape and labels peppered with dozens of different color and fonts. His eyes continued to climb past the chalkboard next listing out the current beers on tap and ultimately settled on the exposed rafters overhead. Polaroids, pen-scrawled notes, small mementos, and other snapshots of lives recent and old filled the space. Decades of history overlapped to create layers of stories that would never be told or remembered, but still managed to weave one unifying tapestry anyone could appreciate. Cold beer filled his mouth while foam pooled against his upper lip and he searched for his own contribution. It felt like a distant memory now loaded with plenty of conflicting emotions, but for all the pain it brought him he couldn’t bring himself to cut it completely out of his life.
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