A Guy Walks Into A Bar

So, a guy walks into a bar and gets drunk. Not drunk drunk, but so stupidly, extremely drunk to tell, “the Truth.” What truth? The one he told me when he sat down at the bar.

I’m not even a drinker so don’t even begin with me about why I was in a bar. I haven’t even had one, ever, and I didn’t even sip my parent’s beer when I was younger when they weren’t looking. Did you have that one uncle who tried to get you to do bad stuff when they were watching you? I didn’t even drink then. Peer pressure in college? Fuhgettaboutit. I’m sorry now where was I? Oh yeah, it was a Wednesday. Wednesday night. At a bar. I don’t drink. I’ll let you figure out what I was doing there.

So a guy walks into a bar, gets drunk right next to me and says, “I gots ta tell ya the truth, man.”
“The truth? I don’t even—”
“Yeah man the truth. Not a truthish truth but the real deal, man. Why you’re he—”
“Uh, sir, I uh—”
“Sssssshhhhhhh…” He pursed his chapped lips with a finger. His chestnut beard smelled like spirits, his clothes were rag-tag torn, and I swore I’d seen him before. He paused for a moment and leaned into me. I didn’t know what to do. His eyes faded and I thought he was asleep. I poked him and he started, “Ear! I’ve seen some things man. Some stuff, real bad stuff. Wrath of God, end of days, the aliens have come to … to harvest our spleens, man!”
“What?” This man is crazy.
“Exachtry. Extractly. Ex, ex-wife, exagon, ex, ex,” he trailed off. So I helped him out since I felt sorry for myself,
“Exactly?”
“Yeah man! Exacterly!”
“Oh boy,”
“No it’s about a girl.”
“Sir I don’t even know you,” came out stuttered while I thought, Where do I know him from?
“I know you. I. Know. You,” he said while staring me in the eyes. “Everyone knows you, espesherly her,” he continued gutterly.
“That’s it! I know you! You’re the crazy homeless that comes into my office at least once a week. Hah!”
“No! Focus, I know you—”
“Haha! Wait, you peed on my car last time I saw you. How can you afford to drink?”
“Because I don’t drink.” Suddenly sober, I knew something was up. “I feast.”
“okay, creeping me out a bit dude. I think I’m gonna lea—”
“NO!” He screamed.
“Hey! Stop yer shoutin’ or I’ll have half the mind to throw you out!” The barkeep glared at me.
“But—”
“Shut it, yuppie. Take yer yammerin’ lower or take it elsewhere,” threatened the bald bartender.’
“The Truth,” continued the crazy man, “is that I’m not even real. I’ve got you all fooled.”

So a guy walks into a bar, gets drunk, and tells me the truth.

The Blog Gives the Writer New Strength

Greek mythology has a story about a seer of Apollonia named Evenius. According to the legend, Evenius was one of the most renowned citizens of Apollonia. One night when he was watching the flock for Helios, which all noble citizens had to do in turns, wolves attacked the flock. Sixty sheep were slaughtered as suddenly as the Lycaonian doppelgangers appeared. Evenius said nothing of the incident because he planned to purchase new sheep as a way to atone for the bloodshed. But the event became renowned because he was renowned. Evenius was eventually brought to trial. He was stripped of his title, stripped of his affluence, and stripped of his renown. His eyes were stabbed out as a settlement for his inattentiveness and lack of communication about the matter.

Evenius has been quoted saying, “the crowd gives the leader new strength.” After all that happened to him, you have to wonder why. Shortly after his trial and punishment, the ground the city was built around stopped producing fruit, the sheep of Helios stopped producing young, and life in general was pretty freaking horrible. As it was in these times, the noble Apolloniatae consulted oracles to get their answers as to why this was happening. The two oracles reported that Evenius had been castigated unduly because the gods themselves had sent the wolves among the sheep, and that the catastrophe under which Apollonia was suffering would not end until Evenius received all the reparations he might be yearning for.

Allegedly, numerous citizens went to talk to Evenius (without mentioning the oracles) and asked him during the course of their conversation, “what reparations would you want if the Apolloniatae should be willing to make any?” Evenius (in his ignorance of what the oracles had said) merely asked for two acres of the best land in Apollonia and the most luxurious house in the city. The deputies then said that the noble Apolloniatae would grant him what he asked for, in agreement with the oracle. Evenius was pretty steamed upon learning that the so-called nobles and citizens misled him. Wouldn’t you? So since the gods liked him more than the nobles and the other citizens, they gifted him with the ability of prophecy. The crowds flocked to him again and he led them, renown restored.

And that’s what I hope to accomplish here on this blog … minus the eye gauging, things being eaten, and the Mister Magoo syndrome. I don’t purport to be or become a prophet of any kind either; I’m much more content with the prospect of lesser-known superpowers such as stretchiness, the ability to transform into any form of water (with or without a power ring and twin), omnilingualism, or the ability "profile" people just by looking at them, discovering relevant background information, important characteristics, and allowing me to predict their reactions to certain situations. I'd even be happy with none at all.

So join me on this quest and let’s see which way the wiry writer writes.