23 May, 2014
In my dream I am seated at the edge of what looks like a big open bar, but covered with kitchen counter-top tile. ‘Hmmm’, I think to myself. ‘This is new’.
I look up at the bar tender and he starts to put out plates in front of everyone, as if he were setting a table. I look down the line at a row of unfamiliar faces who look just as confused as I do. There’s a woman at the end who looks like she’s about to start crying.
“Psst!” I try to get her attention. I mouth the words at her, ‘Just go with it’.
She stops to look at me and I’m not sure if she has understood me until a small smile appears on her face and she mouths back, ‘Ok, thanks.’
All of a sudden a big pile of lemons are dumped on my plate.
“Hey!” I start to protest. “I didn’t order…” but am rudely interrupted by another voice, “Deal with it! That’s life, Kid!” The perpetrator slinks away without my getting to see his face.
But this bar tender, he’s quick on his feet and immediately plops a beautiful juicer in front of me and a bowl of white sugar. Then he winks and says, “Good thing we got good accessories in this joint. This oughta help.” I look up in shock. And then a smile slowly appears on my own face.
“Oh, haha, I get it. When life gives you lemons…” and I chuckle to myself. I look around me for a knife. “Bar tender,” I start to ask him for a knife when I realize he has made his way down to the other end of the table/bar whatever this thing is. I peer past the other plates between us and realize the gal at the other end didn’t get so lucky. Those are definitely NOT lemons on her plate. I gulp. I guess things could’ve been worse for me. Looks like he’s going to be a while down there.
I look around and spot a butter knife on my napkin. ‘Well, better than nothing I suppose,’ I think to myself and immediately start cutting a lemon on my plate. “Damn! You call this a knife? What a useless piece of metal. Got any steak knives?” I shout without even thinking.
“Hey, settle down over there will ya?” The bar tender calls out from the other end of the bar and suddenly I feel ashamed for complaining, given the beautiful juicer he left for me and all.
Eventually I get them cut in twos and lo and behold, make myself a delicious glass of lemonade. "Ahhhh!" It is so good I actually feel grateful. “Thanks man! Sorry about earlier.”
He is making his way back now. “No worries. You got it pretty good you know. That lady at the other end,...whew! Not so good.”
“Yeah?” I ask, curious now.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about her, she’ll figure it out.”
I start to feel a gentle gnawing at my stomach now.“Um, what’s for dinner?” I ask. Then the bar tender stops and looks at me.
“I got some Kant, Kierkegaard, Freud.” I raise an eyebrow at him. Then he grins. “Just joshin’ with ya. There ain’t none of that high falutin’ stuff here. Okay, let’s see,” he says as he puts on a pair of reading glasses and picks up a menu. “Ah, I think you’ll like this.” And he slams a book on my plate. I look down disbelievingly.
“I thought you were joking,” I reply. Then he looks up at me from above his specs and turns and points to the sign lit up in neon to his right. It reads: THE LITERARY BAR & CAFÉ.
“Really?” I say.
“Really.” He says back. I look to see what he’s plopped down on my plate. It’s Anna Karenina.
“Hmmm,” I muse aloud. “That’s got some heft of its own.”
“Hey, this is a classy joint Lady.”
“I can see that,” I say. I peer down at the woman at the other end to see what she’s reading. She looks sullen again although her plate seems to be clean now. But it’s still empty and she has a lost look on her face.
“What’s eating her?” I ask. The bar tender now leans in and whispers behind the back of his hand.
“Don’t worry about that one. She’s crazy. She’s waiting for someone. Been waiting a long time too.”
“Yeah? Who for?”
Then he smiles again and shakes his head as he answers, “Some guy named Beckett.”
