Created By
Rate this Story
Embed
|
+
4
|
Forbidden pt 1 |
|
+
3
|
i could of been pt1 |
|
+
3
|
part of this furniture |
|
+
5
|
my version |
|
part of this furniture
Creative
 Created on 2-15-07
 Views(51)
 Story Rating G
|
a pub is an interesting place,
a many old farts occasionally some young ones...
an army of beer guzzlers every afternoon
and then theres one...
one old man you want to question
one old man you could spend hours of your day talking to
and that same old man is the wisdom you can't find anywhere else
theres one old man in particular, who i always see every staurday afternoon, he comes in sits on the same stool and only every bets three dollars on one horse race.
He's never odered a beer, or a spirit, just the usual deit ginger beer.
he's the kindest old man, talks gently watches in fascination, and listerns to all your troubles in the world.
i was working one Tuesday, and all of a sudden he walks in, soaking, dripping all over the tiles, he sat in his usual spot.
as i went to grab his usual drink, he told me to stop. Said he would be ordering something different today.
it was whiskey on the rocks, he'd never before drank anything alcoholic in this pub, he said he never had a reason to.As i served him his whiskey and placed it on the coaster beside him, he grabbed my hand and asked me what he was doing.
i looked into his, to see them swollen, and red, he had been crying, i asked what was wrong and he said, "in all my years at this pub i never imagined myself as a part of this furniture until now".
as he went on, i noticed how sad he was getting, he believed that he'd spent most of this life sitting, waiting for this moment.
"I've sat in this chair every Saturday since the pub opened, i used it for my relaxation, and as my home" .
i spent most of the night with him as my main focus.
i watched him drink, i slowed him down, at one point i began to water his drinks down, i connected with him and i was protecting him from anything that would cause him damage. He'd spent many hours helping me, listening to me, making sure i made the right decisions. So i did the same for him on that tuesday night.
As i closed up, he went on his way, gave me a kiss on the cheek and said "thank you darl, be good to yourself".
i went to work the next morning, open my bar, wait and watched the regulars flow in and out, by the time came for my break i sat with them and talked like any other day. Though today they weren't the loud out spoken men, they were just quiet men.
one turned around to me and said "he passed away last night". Immediately i knew who, "his wife died yesterday morning, he was devastated but it was bound to happen she had been sick form many years" he pause, struggling to continue "he always loved her, hated being apart, came here every saturday while she saw a doctor".
"how did it happen?" i asked softly.
"he died from natural causes, but i would say he couldn't bare to not have her with him".
i was the last to see him alive, a few moments passed and i sat on that stool with the fellas, he was such a lovely, kind and gentle old man. i respected him greatly, but you could tell he was just waiting, watching and living for his wife.He was right in a way he was apart of the pubs furniture, he became the valued piece.
Comments
Please Login to post comments| On February 16th 2007 drowningnlove Said : | |
|
so true. |
