Another Night at *The Tavern* {Morgana}
Sept 29, 2011 19:20:04 GMT -5
Post by Lydie on Sept 29, 2011 19:20:04 GMT -5
Tavern McFoy
Tavern was running late, she had picked up an extra shift at the plastic factory hoping that she might be able to get some extra cash to pay off the pub's debts. But of course the person who was supposed to take her place had been late and now she was scrambling to get to The Tavern before it opened for the night. Friday's were always busy, so were Saturdays and Mondays and Tavern hated being late. She knew that Bob would cover for her, that he'd take care of things till she got there, but she hated owing him, she hated owing anyone. Especially at times like this when she already owed so much, though that wasn't really her fault. It was her drunk father who had borrowed money he couldn't return, who had practically run the pub out of business.
She cursed her father silently, though not for the first time and kept making her way down the street to where The Tavern was. She saw the sign first, it wasn't one of those flagrant neon, blinking light signs that all the fancy bars had. It was old, made out of wood, one her grandfather had made when he first opened the pub. In dark fading green the sign read The Tavern, hanging above the door which was also made of wood. Everything at The Tavern was made of wood, it gave it a rustic authenticity that Tavern loved. It made it feel like home.
When she got to the door she stood there a moment, noticing the dim light showing through the small window to the right as she caught her breath. She closed her eyes, relaxing and taking a deep breath of the familiar smell she had grown up with. This was her ritual before going in, she took a moment to remember her younger days when her parent's pub had felt like magic to her, when everything was perfect. Her eyes opened to the sound of boisterous laughter and she glanced around her, noticing that the sky was dark. It was when her day finally came to life, when she wasn't just a factory worker, or the daughter of a drunk, the daughter of the woman who killed herself, but when she was just Tavern in the place that felt the most like home, even if it was falling apart by the seams.
So she pushed open the door and stepped into the dim yellow light of the pub, her pub and walked inside. The first thing she noticed was Bob behind the bar, leaning over it as he talked to another man who looked to be his age. The man was gesturing as he said something to Bob, Bob smiling and listening intently. Tavern was glad to have him there, even though she hated owing people she knew she wouldn't have been able to keep the pub going if he hadn't been here, every day, watching out for her. As she watched him with the man for a little longer she found herself wishing, like so many other times, that he had been her father. Bob always brought the best out of people, and he was always good at keeping the peace here.
Then Bob turned his head and saw Tavern, "Hey, look who's here. I was worried you would never come. How was work?"
Tavern turned her attention to the present and started walking to join him behind the counter, dropping her jacket off on a hook there. "Like it always is." She sighed, "Sorry I was late, I got held up."
"No worries," He said shrugging, "You know I don't mind helping out."
"I know, but I'm getting a little tired of you saving my butt all the time." She replied checking over all the supplies, "I need to get used to standing on my own feet, sink or swim."
Bob had gotten out from behind the counter and now seated himself on one of the bar stools on the other side. Tavern got a clean beer mug and filled it up, sliding it down to him. "I know, I know. But I can't help it."
"Well don't worry about it anymore, enjoy the night." Tavern said, gesturing around the pub like she did every time they had this conversation.
"Alright, but let me know if you need anything." He said then got up from the bar stool, beer in hand. He clapped the guy on the back that he had been talking to then went to one of the tables and started talking to someone else.
Tavern sighed then wiped down the counter, straightening a bowl of nuts as she did so. When she filled up the guy at the counter's mug and found she didn't have much else to do she stood back and took in tonight's group.
They were the usual suspects, people not unlike her father. Here to escape the real world, and drink their sorrows away. They were no women, just the usual meaty guys who only grunted in reply to a question, or went on about their woes in slurred, incoherent sentences.
The truth was business had been slow for the last few years, it wasn't the bustle Tavern remembered it to be when she was a child. There was hardly any chatter or laughter, just the low volume of an old Hunger Games video playing on the small TV hanging in the far corner of the room. The tables hardly crowded and the dartboard unused. This was all because of her father, after he had started drinking all the time he'd given The Tavern a bad reputation, mostly because he'd kept starting fights when people offended him or talked about his dead wife. People came here to drink away their reality, instead of to be with family and friends. That had always been her parent's intent for this place, to have somewhere to enjoy people's company and forget about the bad things in life, if only for the night. But it seemed as though Tavern's mother's death had put a curse over the place, now filling it was an almost gloom that Tavern desperately wanted to be rid of.
Thinking of the past turned Tavern's already bad mood worse. This is going to be a long night, she thought. But maybe something interesting would happen. Doubt it. She chided herself. But still, a part of her couldn't help but hope for something good to come, like she did every night.
