Fiction.

“You’re hair is pretty. What’s your name?” I said in my best-behavior voice to the tall blonde waitress filling drinks behind the bar at Grandma’s.

She smiled in exactly the shy sweet sort of way that makes me want to puke. “Amelia.”

“Now you just need a tit job and a fucking tan, and you’ll be just about right.” Her face crumpled into darkness as she scurried away with the drinks. The bartender laughed and shook my hand.

“Excellent work, bro,” he exclaimed in delight. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Need another drink?”

The man has a way with words. “A thousand more beers, please,” I ordered with an expansive flick of the wrist. It’s not that I don’t like girls, it’s just that they’re no fun unless they’ve got spine. I began to look around for further entertainment as the first of the thousand beers is set before me. I take that back: they’re plenty of fun, just in a different way.

My eye alighted on some woman nagging what appeared to be a fully adult man next to her in a very un-adult way. This could be good.

“Kaiser, I’m not saying you have to stop having fun, but you do need to stop starring in your own personal porn film and start to take your career a little more seriously.”

It’s not that I necessarily get off on people’s pain and suffering. It’s just that people need to lighten the fuck up most of the time. But also, and let’s be honest here, pain and suffering can be pretty hilarious, so I decided to listen in. It was easy, because this Kaiser guy was sitting right next to me and the women had a voice that apparently went up to eleven.

“I told you,” whined Kaiser. “I do take it seriously.”

Oh, fantastic. What a pussy. I absolutely have to butt in. “Come on, son. Buck up. ‘The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,’ you know”

Kaiser turns. “What! Who’re you?”

“That’s what I was trying to say!” chirps the harpy two barstools down, flashing me a toothy grin full of gaps between teeth. “Eleanor Roosevelt said that!” I could have sworn it was Dylan, but I’m pretending to be on her side.

By this time, Kaiser is swiveling back and forth, looking hunted. “Look, I don’t want to have this conversation, all right? Can we get drinks maybe someday?” he asks of the bartender, who appears to be in some kind of impassioned discussion down at the end of the bar with some superhipster types.

“I just don’t want to see my brother throw his twenties away on beers and babes. You know how Mom is.”

At this, the poor guy just mumbled, staring hard at the bar. I knew he was trying hard to restrain himself, but I personally have no respect for restraint. I followed a hunch and pushed a little harder.

“Come on, Kaiser. Speak up. Don’t be a pussy. It’s not like she’s never done anything wrong.”

Kaiser’s next words filled me with a warm glow. “I said,” he turned to face his sister, “at least I didn’t screw my best friend’s dad in high school.”

“How did you know about that? I didn’t tell anyone.”

Kaiser kept his mouth shut as she worked herself up. I looked at him with newfound respect. Now here is a man who knows how to fuck with someone properly.

“I … I can’t believe this. You can find your own way home,” she said, edging through the crowd towards a tall scruffy guy with ironic glasses on and making wild arm movements towards the door. Kaiser shook his head.

Either my heart is suddenly filled with an upswelling of gratitude and affection, or I’m further into the thousand beers than I think. “Dude, that was incredible.” I nod to the bartender for another beer while shaking my head, chuckling. “I take everything back. You’re a genuine prince. I’m James. Have a beer.”