In the corner of listening and glass there lays a small bar called The Listener’s Glass. There are only two employees who work there. I run the bar and a part-time student who works so that he can pay for his college. Most of the time I’m in the bar all alone. A lot of really sketchy people like to walk into my bar. However, they make for the best stories.
*****
A small old lady walked into the bar. Her grey hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. She sat quietly in a booth, I assumed she was waiting for someone, but my part-timer informed me that she was just sitting there. She ordered nothing, she said little, and she sat there sadly. Her wrinkled face was solemn and her little bag was stuffed.
I walked up to her, I guess you could say that my curiosity got the better of me. “Did you want to order anything? I also sell non-alcoholic drinks. They are popular with people who are designated drinkers.”
The lady looked at me for a while before saying, “Do you know what this area used to be?”
I smiled and took the question as an invitation to sit down.
“It used to be a popular area for couples, you know? There was a movie theatre across the street, but now it’s a club. Then there was the hotel at the end of the street.” The stranger smiled fondly. “My husband and I used to go there to compete in dance competitions frequently. We never won, but it sure was fun.”
Some time passed before she looked at me once again, “and you know…” She looked around the bar. “I think this place changed the least. It sold food for those who got off late, and it had an alcohol bar back then too. It was the most…” she smiled once more and looked up as if she thought of something. “It is the most comfortable place on the street. It was true when I was young, and it’s still true now. I don’t know if it is the manners of the employees or just the charm of the place in general… or maybe because it was my husband’s favorite place to spend the night after dancing, or watching a movie.”
The stranger then reached into her bag and pulled out an urn. “He spent a lot of his time here, up to the time he was hospitalized.”
At this point, it dawned on me as to who she was. Her husband brought her here once while I was the owner of the bar. They sat in a booth and the bliss on their faces had given me the feeling that they really loved each other.
“Would you mind if I left him here?” The woman held the urn out to me, and I grabbed it. Tears ran down our faces as she let the urn go, and I remembered my favorite costumer. Even though I have only seen this lady twice before, I knew her husband. He was a kind and gentle man who loved to talk loudly and who became friends with everyone.
“He talked about you a lot.” I heard myself say. “He really loved you.”
The woman broke down and started to sob silently into her hands, “I yelled at him! I had asked him to change the lightbulb, and he put it off. So I yelled… He did it the next day and fell. He never woke up.”
I grabbed the strangers hand, “He used to always talk about how beautiful you were, even when you were yelling at him. He told me that he enjoyed doing things for you when you were not around so that you could have a surprise when he fixed things. The love you had with him is rare. I will gladly place the urn in the shop, but I want you to hold onto it until I can get a proper shelf built for him.”
“Thank you…”
The woman walked out slowly with the urn clutched to her chest, but before she walked out the door, she looked back at me and gave me a big smile. My regular was right, she does have the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen.
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