Sam opened his mouth in the direction of the man who was seating himself, but the man beat Sam’s coming words with his own. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about that shit anymore. It’s boring and you’ll stew on it in your brain for the next few hours whether it’s our topic of discussion or not. Tell me more about musicians. Music. You can go through every damn song on that jukebox, if you’d like. Let’s just not talk about that.”
That man’s first word fell so perfectly before Sam’s that the timing alone pushed him even farther into believing what he was trying to ignore. He took time to process his awe and then had to go back to reviewing what the man had said; there was a short instance of silence, but Sam finally spoke.
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Change of heart? Sam, I only brought it up after you kept harping on me for answers to personal questions about my life.”
“Well, you were elusive and mysterious, man! I’m curious like a cat and you can’t blame me for that! Sometimes I rhyme too, Jiiiiive Turkey.” Sam laughed uncontrollably at the mixture of how stupid his comment was, how giddy he felt over becoming sort-of friends with a supposed Satan, and how all of a sudden he felt like all the alcohol he had dumped into his system was stored up somewhere, only to be released as he formed that sentence. Sam almost leaned a little too far in his guttural shaking and rocking back and forth. The man had to stretch his feet to the ground just to hold up Sam’s light-hearted body.
“Lay off the sauce for a bit and go pick out a new song. Susan,” the man turned in her direction, “can Sam get a few more quarters? He’s looking to give us all a history lesson or two and I am in compliance. What say you?”
“I’ll agree to that,” Susan said. “Whatever makes the time go by faster in this shit hole.” The last part was let out mixed with a sigh, like someone does when they hope no one will hear, but want their frustration justified by vocalizing it. The man heard it and winked at her through his grin when she brought the quarters over.
“Lady and gentleman,” the man was now standing, arms raised, and head tilted upwards in a prim manner, “I present to you, The Omniscient Samuel Pickard!”
Sam’s head turned so fast to look at the man that the force almost threw his body off the stool. How does he know my last name?
The man seemed to be waiting for Sam’s reaction, his eyes focusing beams directly into Sam’s, hinting at a secret, inaudible conversation going on between the two of them. Sam noticed a smirk, just barely visible where the man’s lips met on the right side of his mouth.
“Go on, Sam. Your audience awaits you.”
Sam leaned onto the bar top enough to get his view around the man and onto Susan and Johnny. They were both staring blankly at him, like children with heads cocked who don’t understand what they are waiting for.
post the rest of the story!
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