"Drinking isn't going to fill this empty space" thought Maxine disconsolately. Her mind, still starkly etched with the black despair that had shrouded her since yesterday, wandered from the dinginess of the bar in which she sat. Slow drowsy blues music filtered through cheap speakers above the bar, settling over her straight bourbon like a spider's web. Thick cigar smoke drifted in a hazy cloud past the faded Corona neon sign.
Maxine thought back to yesterday, walking through the lush gardens near her home, revelling in the sunshine. Day empty, she had planned to do nothing but enjoy herself until Simon, her boyfriend, came home from work.
She saw a couple, kissing passionately on a park bench, their kisses filled with the urgency of new love. With a wistful smile, she'd walked closer, remembering when she and Simon had been caught up in that empassioned yearning for each other. She looked back, watching their frantic caresses, and pulled out her mobile phone, just to call Simon and tell him how much she loved him.
As she held the ringing phone to her ear, a phone rang nearby. She stopped, listening to the tone as it screamed its shrill call. It was coming from the man on the bench's phone, and she watched as he grabbed it impatiently.
He held it to his ear, and said "Hello?"
She felt sick to the stomach, like a knife twisted against the bones of her chest. There was no mistaking that she'd heard his voice from the phone as well. Her mind couldn't deny that it was Simon she'd seen kissing the girl on the bench. The bastard.
"Look up." she'd said, voice a dead tone.
And he'd looked up, seeing her instantly. His eyes widened in surprise, a shocked expression that was almost cartoonishly amusing. He'd opened his mouth to explain, but by then she was running, tears streaming down her face.
And now she was here, composed but fragile as the frequent sips of liquor burned her tongue. There was no way she was going home tp Simon, and her eyes, puffy from crying, ached with the pain of her sorrow. A shadow fell over her, and without looking up, she held up her near empty glass for a refill.
"How about an ear instead of a drink?" she heard a man's voice say.
She looked up, confused that the old bartender could have such a strong, young voice. Instead of the grizzled, porty man who'd served her all night, a young man stood there, his expression a mixture of reserve and compassion. The gold light of the beer sign shone off the ring in his eyebrow. She tried to snap, but was too tired. "Why would I want an ear?"
"Well, " he said with a chuckle, "I could give you a foot, but it's not as good a listener as my ear."
She smiled, taking a closer look at him. He couldn't have been more than about twenty-three, with blonde-dyed hair and soft brown eyes. The ring in his eyebrow shone with the barlight, and the black T-shirt he wore didn't cover the black tendrils of a tattoo, crawling out from under his sleeve.
"Well, I don't really want to talk about it. It's pretty personal."
He shrugs, still holding the enigmatic smile. "Okay, okay. But I don't think you should drink alone. No one drinks alone in Christov's bar!" he said the last sentence with his arms raised, as if delivering a biblical proclamation.
She tried to stay sad, but his good humour was infectious. He lifted the partition a few feet from her, and slipped under it with practised ease. Grabbing a bottle of Jim Beam, he poured her a fresh drink, then filled a tall glass with bourbon and coke for himself.
"Shouldn't you be working the bar?" she asked, a little surprised by this sudden attention.
"No, Jon's back now." he gestured with his head toward the end of the bar, and she saw the orignal barman serving the other drinkers at the bar.
"Tell me, "she smiled " why did you call this Christov's bar? I've always known this place as Jimmy Blues, and I've been coming here for a year."
He laughed, his face erupting in mirth. "Oh, this is Jimmy Blues, but the owner's name is Christov."
"That's a weird name for the owner of a blues bar."
"Well, I think it suits him. By the way, what's your name?"
"Maxine, but everyone calls me Max. And you?"
"Guess."
