He
was a story version of a person with a broken heart...
★★★★★
"Jamie,"
the divorced looking man, quite evident by his pale blue button-down shirt,
introduced himself. He stuck out his hand, knocking over a few beer bottles,
with a wide grin spread on his face. "Jamie Lizzard. I'm Alaska's most
famous comedian."
The
writer replied, "Ron," as he shook Jamie's hand.
"What
brings you to The Swamp?" the comedian asked. He mouthed to the bartender
for a glass of whiskey on the rocks. Ron stirred around what was left of his
Pink Rabbit, contemplating whether he should get another. He took a bite of the
strawberry, sliced halfway on the rim of his coupe glass.
"I
don't know," he finally answered back. "I'm just following my
wife."
"Nice,
my wife's birthday is coming up," Jamie said. He stared at the bartender's
shelf before swiveling on the bar stool to face Ron. "She said to me,
'Nothing would make me happier than a diamond necklace.'"
"Well,
I'm glad you guys have a great relationship." Ron paused to take a sip of
his cocktail. He looked up at the old CRT TV, hanging from the wall via a rusty
mount. Pictures of faraway tropical islands flashed on the screen, as well as
an oddly cropped image of Beirut.
"Yup,
we're both looking for the same thing: someone else."
Jamie
gulped down his entire glass of whiskey upon receiving it, leaving behind only
the ice cubes. "There's so many types of Barbie now," he said,
opening another bottle of beer. "It makes it easier to sell used ones.
I've got one at home called motorcycle accident Ken."
He
looked at a brunette girl, wearing a burgundy-colored Henley top, unbuttoned
halfway. She sat at the other end of the bar, bathing in a warm glow underneath
a lamp. Her pink aviator sunglasses glistened in light, casting a bright,
dreamy luster on the counter. Jamie asked Ron, "Do you think I should
shoot my shot?"
"No,
she looks like she's ten," he replied, finishing off his drink.
"Besides, who wears sunglasses at night?"
Hanging
his coat on the bar stool, Jamie said quietly, "That's just part of being
an adult."
"Hey,
honey," Jamie sat down next to her, and awkwardly winked. "Feel my
shirt." For a few seconds, the girl plucked at the blue fabric, before
setting her hands back down. The comedian then asked, "Want to know what
it's made of?"
"Sure,"
she reluctantly said after looking around. Jamie replied, "Father
Fabric."
Ron
pinched his forehead and hid his face in his hands. Returning to the bar stool
to gather his belongings, Jamie smiled. "Write us a good ending,
please." Ron dropped his glass on the floor, and shot him a stunned look.
"What?"
"Well,
aren't you the one in charge of our future?" he asked. "Anyways, you
better run on back to your wife."
★★★★★
Written
by Jerry Zervas on 3/27/26.
DO
NOT USE UNLESS GIVEN PERMISSION BY ME (i.e. email me)
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