The Last Drink

“I am going to drink like a fish tonight. Keep it pouring, dear friend”, said a man to the barkeep.

 

She poured him some bourbon, and he swallowed it. Then she poured him another, and it met with the same fate. He took four shots of bourbon, and then she poured him the fifth.

 

“You are a good barkeep, it is reasonably difficult to match my speed,” said the man with pride in his voice.

 

She thanked him, and he gulped the fifth.

“Fuck my life,” he said.

 

He asked her to pour him another, but she refused. Then he made her understand that he was in a perfectly good condition to drink more. He was quite convincing in doing so, and hence, she poured him another.

 

“Fuck my life,” he said and gulped the drink.

“I was a young man once you know, young and strong. Then something happened.”

“What happened?” she inquired.

“Time happened, love and I grew old. I became weak; the days took my energy and the nights took my sleep. Slowly and steadily I lost importance, and I wasn’t ready to be useless.”

“You are not worthless; you must change the way you perceive worth.”

“O what do you know, you are just fucking eighteen. Pour me another, will you?”

She poured him another.

“Fuck my life,” he said and gulped it.

 

“You will also grow old one day and then you will realize how it feels to be nothing. Right now you are just a fucking kid. You still have strength in your bones, charm on your face and fire in your loins. Life is a carnival for you, experience it while it lasts.”

 

“But you are a healthy man and seem to come from a well-off family.”

 

“Well money isn’t everything kid, in fact, it is nothing. How would you know, you are just a fucking kid. Pour me another. I feel sober.”

 

She poured him another, and he drank it. Soon the bar had just the two of them. It had already been more than three hours and more than twelve drinks.

 

“I must cut you off now sir. You have had a lot, and we need to close the place.”

“Lend me your half an hour and then you can do whatever the fuck you want to. Sounds reasonable?”

 

“No, but you can have half an hour more.”

“You are a smart girl. I think you are too mature for your age.”

“And why would you say that?” she asked and poured him another.

He took the shot and gazed at the glass while suspecting a sense of urgency in her query.

 

“Look at this glass love, what do you see?”

“Nothing, it is empty,” she said.

“You see things how they are and not what you want them to be. And when you are old and wrinkled you will realize that is what maturity is, accepting things for what they are. Right now you are just a fucking kid. No one expects you to know that.”

 

“And what else has age taught you?” she asked and poured each a drink.

“What are you trying to say with that condescending tone of yours?”

“Nothing, it was just an inquiry. I was just curious.”

“Well don’t be, being curious give you memories, and when you are old and wrinkled. You would rather be empty.”

“I sense you no longer have curiosities in life, no questions to ask from life.”

“Why would I question?”

“To seek answers.”

“No one had the answers to my questions, and hence, I stopped asking.”

“Well, there are certainly no answers at the bottom of the bottle.”

“Who says I am looking for them there.”

“I don’t understand why you drink so much, what propagates your lust for alcohol.”

 

“Half an hour is over love, can I have my last drink?”

She poured him another, and he gulped it.

 

“Fuck my life,” he said and lost consciousness.

“Brother, father is done for the night, please take him to his room,” shouted the barkeep.

 

 

 

************THE END************