Typical Night

He walked in the door and took a seat,
ordered his drink with a heavy weight -
bottle of bud with a whiskey, neat.
I could tell his mind was a stormy state.

His eyes stayed fixed on the TV screen,
which was the telltale sign of masked troubles,
with their disquiet, lifeless sheen.
Just a matter of time before the shots came in doubles.

It happened somewhere into his third round.
This time, a double whiskey and another Bud.
I tried t lighten his mood, yet still he frowned,
so I just sat and waited for the immpending flood.

Men like him really aren't that rare.
They're all looking to solve some personal quandry.
Eventually I learned that needy but vacant stare,
eventually, after a time, they open up to me.

Bill walks in and takes his usual stool.
I set up his usual drinks - draft beer and a bourbon shot.
Taking the shot, he asks about the football pool.
I inquire about the new truck he just got.

Not too long ago, Bill was one of those -
a lost soul with questions and no resolve.
For some reason, my bar was the one that he chose,
and after a few bourbons, I watched his reticence dissolve.

It began like any other bland, idle talk -
the weather, and politicians being so morrally corrupt.
Just when I sensed that he was about to walk,
he had "just one more" and began to open up.

Like now, it was near empty and almost one.
I learned of his messy divorce and rough life.
A rural kid, he had a baby and married too young -
for only five years she had been his wife.

I don't think he meant to reveal so much to a stranger,
but once he started, he found it hard to quit.
I'd like to think that it made him that much stronger -
to throw it out there and analyze it bit by bit.

Another round for the gentleman down the way,
and with that comes the talk - the idle chit chat.
Just when I thought he was gonna leave, this one's gonna stay,
and soon I learn about the job he hates, his boss, and their spat.

Bill slides down a few stools to listen to this new guy -
whose name just happens to be the same you see.
More at ease, the second Bill now loosens his blue striped tie,
and seems more comfortable with my regular than with me.

I figure I'll leave the two new chums to tell their tales.
I won't readily admit it, but at times it can get a little tedious -
listening to the same drivel and monotonous details.
At times, it's just nice to enjoy the quiet of my own wariness.

Last call guys, it's time to head out -
collect your things, stub your smokes, and grab your six pack.
I don't wanna hear it, and don't let me see you pout...
it's two o' clock - out you go, but you can always come back.

After all is counted, cleaned, stocked, and shut down,
I sit down and play my music for the first time all night,
sipping on a little bit of ice and a lot a bit of crown.
It's been a long one, and I'm feeling a bit contrite.

In this concoction, I'll drown my own misery
and everyone's troubles will disappear - I go at a slower pace.
Glancing around this dark, empty bar, taking in the scenery,
I can't help but wonder sometimes how I ended in this place...