Jack

         

           The door swung open slowly, a man dressed in a long black coat and odd

gray pants entered the bar, running his hand through his slicked back hair as the

loud chatter dropped into a silent hum. Tables were spread across the room, but the

man waded on through the crowd, standing tall with a large grin painted on his face,

obviously more proud of his presence than those that stared him down seemed to

be.

            He sat down at the bar, a grustly old fellow with a patchy five o’clock shadow,

a leather vest, and a “mom” tattoo stitched into his arm threw himself onto the stool

next to him, definitely looking for trouble. To the old brutes surprise he was greeted

with a handshake and a smile, rather than sweat drops or the stench of fear.

Retracting his hand the man introduced himself as Jack, and before the brutish man

could refuse, Jack had bought him a drink. Despite the odd composition the two of

them got along together quite well, and within minutes you never would have

guessed they were two complete strangers. The two’s laughter filled the silence still

hovering over the bar, and soon everyone else joined in on the fun as well.

            Jack spun around in his stool, facing the crowd that was gathering, revealing

a deck of cards and his ever-smiling face. People gathered around him, and he

bought each man a drink. He began to show off various magic tricks and told

multiple jokes that caused waves of ‘Guffaws’ to roar through the bar. He told tales

of grand adventures, and stories of lovely women. Everyone was having a jolly

good time, laughing, and in some cases crying; Everyone took a liking to Jack

extremely quickly. But this was all before his first drink. Soon he began insulting

people instead of telling jokes, then he began to insult people’s mothers.

            Jack teetered back and forth, his cheeks rosy red and his eyelids drooping as

he knocked back another shot. A young man dressed in a plaid button up shirt stood

in the corner, secluded from the rest of the crowd, but was soon interrupted as Jack

stumbled into him. Jack closed him into the corner, howling insults and spewing

obscenities of all sorts, and quickly Jack had turned it into a game of fists. The others

that had gathered around shook their heads in shame, unable to truly believe this

was the same Jack who told jokes and bought them their drinks. It took a group

effort to pull Jack away from the lad, but it was easy enough to guide him to the bar

door.

            Jack tumbled through the door, much less elegantly than how he had entered,

tripping over his long coat and landing on the gravely sidewalk. Jack laid crumpled

on the ground, the darkness of the night only being pierced by the small crack in the

bar door. Muffled laughs erupted from within as Jack questioned why things always

ended up this way, and why he was able to make so many friends, but not keep

them.

            After a few moments Jack stood tall once again, looking much like he had

when he entered the bar earlier that evening, teetering back and forth, his memories

of the night had been dismissed as being dreams. He began to stumble into the night

in a drunken haze, prowling for another bar, or perhaps a nice place to crawl into

and sleep until the next night of fun would arrive.