Another Saturday night and here I was again; alone, half-drunk and full of self pity. Goddamned bar I was in was about three-quarters full and I didnât know a soul in the place. Except Mike the bartender of course. Good old Mike kept my glass filled up and pulled out the right amount of money from the stack of soggy bills on the bar in front of me. I didnât have to do a damn thing except drink and piss and I had done plenty of both and little else.
Lots of hot looking women in here but to them I was invisible. I had tried my luck on one of them, a sweet looking babe two stools down. Long auburn hair, breasts proudly displayed beneath a too-tight t-shirt that left little to the imagination. Long slender legs that seemed to go on forever.
âNo thanksâ was her curt reply to my offer to buy her a drink. Turning back to her girlfriend on the adjacent stool I could hear them laughing softly together and I had little doubt about the subject of their laughter.
Not that I could blame them. Since Karen and I had split you might say that I was becoming accustomed to looking at life from a slightly different perspective. Where once I had prided myself on my manner of dress and general appearance, now I rarely took the time to wear more than faded jeans and wrinkled t-shirts. I knew a haircut and shave would help the cause but I never seemed to bother. For what?
Best not to get involved with anyone on too personal a basis. You only end up alone and hurt and sitting by yourself in some shit-hole bar feeling sorry for yourself. A couple of more drinks and the pain and loneliness would fade and I could pretend that everyone here was my friend and that I was a guest at this wonderful, noisy party. Even if no one knew I was here. Ironic wasnât it?
But Christ I had to admit that it would be nice to get laid again. How long had it been now, three months? Four? What the fuck difference did it make? It would take a lot more booze then I had drunk so far to delude myself into thinking that I had a snowballs chance in hell of scoring with any of the women in this place. This might be a pick-up bar for young professionals but none of them wanted to be picked up by me. Like I said before, who could blame them?
I had just finished a drink and nodded to Mike to bring me another when I first noticed the man sitting on the next stool to my right. Christ, I must be drunker than I thought I was because I hadnât even heard him sit down much less seen him. Trust me I would have noticed and remembered this guy because he was even more out of place here than I was.
He was about sixty or seventy years old, who could tell? He was wearing a checkered derby hat and a yellow bowtie. His cream colored suit was slightly rumpled but still very tasty and dignified. His brown dress shoes were shiny and recently polished and he wore a vest under the suit that matched the color of his shoes exactly. What a vision he was in this trendy pick-up joint.
Oddly enough, however, none of the other patrons stared at him or paid him the least bit of attention. Mike came over and immediately placed a small glass of sherry in front of him and then walked away without being paid for it. Strange.
âGuess youâve been here before eh grandpop?â Well that was a brilliant thing to say and I immediately wished I could take it back. He turned to me and I had the strangest feeling that I knew him from somewhere. Probably he just looked like someone I had met once or maybe someone on television. Come to think of it he did sort of look like that actor that was on âMy Favorite Martianâ and âPickett Fencesâ, what the hell was his name? Ray Walton or something.
He glared at me with a pair of piercing brown eyes and said coolly, âWrong on both counts sonny. Never been here before and sure as hell am not your âgrandpopâ.â
âSorry,â I mumbled aloud while thinking to myself what an asshole this guy probably was. Never been here before but Mike knows exactly what drink to bring him. Sure.
âAnd before you ask Mr. Hallock, you and I have never met before. We do, however, have a piece of business to transact tonight.â
I sat straight up and looked at him. âHow do you know my name? Have we met? I think I would have remembered you.â
He pulled a small leather notebook out of his jacket pocket and flipped through the pages. Stopping somewhere in the middle section he began reading aloud, âDon Hallock, age 32. Employed as a computer consultant when he bothers to show up for work at all. Single, recently parted from long time lover named Karen Jantzen. Currently drinking far too much and letting his appearance go all to hell. In danger of losing his job and all prospects for the future. Old friends slipping away as self pity becomes his dominant personality trait. Couldnât get laid if his life depended on it.â He closed the notebook and stared straight into my eyes. âDoes that accurately sum things up Mr. Hallock?â
To be perfectly honest at that moment I was speechless. Somewhere in the back of my brain a headache was starting and I suddenly found myself totally sober.
âWho the fuck are you and where did you get all that information concerning my private life?â
âWho I am and where I got this story of your present sad state of affairs is of little import. The important question should be what might we do about it. The answer to that, Mr. Hallock, is quite a bit actually. At least about your sad love life.â
I was getting a little pissed off by this time. Who the hell was this guy?
âBefore you get yourself all worked up Mr. Hallock, letâs put all of our cards so-to-speak on the table. Anyone could find out the basic facts of your life if they wanted to badly enough. As to your current condition, well letâs just say that anyone with twenty-twenty vision could discern the obvious. Youâre on a slippery slope, Mr. Hallock, a very slippery slope. Iâm here to offer you a rope. A rope that you can use any way you want to pull yourself up again. Sounds simple but in a nutshell thatâs it.â
I didnât know whether to laugh or cry at that point. This whole conversation was absurd to be sure but there was no denying the truth of what he said. Suddenly I saw myself as he must see me, weak and pathetic. How he got his information seemed less important than the basic truth of it.
âSo tell me about this rope of yours. Whatâs that going to cost me? And why should you offer it to me? I donât know you from Adam.
A trace of a smile appeared on his face. He leaned in to me and said softly, âDo you believe in magic Mr. Hallock?â
Oh shit this guy was some wacko or hustler. I must be his mark. Great, just what I needed. âHell no,â I mumbled. I took another pull on my drink. Damn, that headache was getting worse.
âNo, of course you donât,â he said. âBut first letâs take care of that headache youâve developed.â Before I knew what was happening he had reached across to me and placed two fingers gently on my right temple. I felt a sense of pulsing energy for just the briefest of seconds and then, just like that the pain was gone.