2024-05-23
Hugo thought the little work he'd done had earned him a beer on a Tuesday just so he could get a little drunk. The sun was nearly setting but it was still warm outside. Even though he could've still sat outside all the good places had already closed since it was a Tuesday. He'd done something great, he felt, and he deserved to feel good too. Just twenty minutes or so.
He walked into the dim bar which only source of lighting was the dying sun shining in from the open windows. The seats had all faded or eroded and an old men with flush faces gave him dirty looks as he went and ordered a beer. The table next to the door let in a faint breeze. He picked up a book and pretended to read.
More people came than went and his beer too, surprisingly finding himself already through his second beer. A man walked past but then double backed, sitting down at the table opposite Hugo. He was wearing a dirty gray t-shirt that was too big for him and sat scratching his unkempt beard. Hugo picked up his book and read through the words, merely letting his eyes scan the page, not picking any of them up.
"Don Quixote?" the man said.
"What?" Hugo said, "Oh yes. Good book."
"The one... He's the one --- windmills?"
"Sancho Panza, yeah. Best book. You've read it?"
"No, but I've heard of it," he said, downing half of his beer "Ya mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all," Hugo said, and he couldn't finish the thought before the man had sat down, "But I've got to leave soon."
"What's your name?"
"Hugo." He reached out his hand. The grip was sloppy and crooked.
"Jasper."
"Nice to meet you Jasper." The man looked out toward the entrance where people in sundresses were walking by laughing, probably on their way home. "Where you from Jasper."
"Nice to meet you too," he said, "Oh. I'm from Sundbyberg."
"From Spånga myself."
"No shit. Went all the way 'til high school there."
"No kidding. Where?"
"Sundbyskolan."
"Hey, me too."
"For real? How old you man?"
"26."
"I'm four years older, shit..." he laughed, "We must've went there in the same time."
"Yeah. Though four years is a lot when you're that age."
"Still," Jasper said.
"It's a hell of a coincidence," Hugo said.
"Yeah. Hey do you remember the old principal, Mr... what was it, Salk?"
"I don't remember much from those days."
"Yeah, man. It was Salk and I remember one time I got in trouble because me and Susie were --- and she was the hottest girl in school and a teacher caught us --- you remember her? Was a year younger than me."
"No, I don't remember her," Hugo said as he finished his beer. "I do remember I got sent to the principal once, we found a spice wrapper out on the schoolyard and we went to the computer in the school library to find out what it was. Next thing I knew I felt the tap on the shoulder and the principal's office."
"Yeah, shit man. I remember spice. The police came to school all the time after it became big."
But Hugo didn't have much more to say about the old school he hardly remembered. "So what are you doing now?"
"Nothing much," Jasper said, " I have work tomorrow, but it's later in the day ---"
"Oh, I was thinking more in line of work."
It took a little while for him to respond. "Right. Well, I print newspapers."
"Well that's great."
"It isn't. Nobody reads newspapers anymore."
"I do, sometimes."
"It's a dying breed. But I tried to go the university route, first in the military and then I tried to become an English teacher. I didn't have 'compatible values' they said."
"What does that mean?"
"It's all bullshit is what it is. So the thing is I called this girl a fucking bitch --- and the thing is I apologized and everything."
Hugo didn't doubt he had apologized but he was not young enough to believe it was the entire story. He was wise enough to recognize not to ask. "I'm in marketing myself."
"That's good. There's a growing future there."
"Don't say that. People will always need paper, no matter what the news say."
"But marketing is great. It's a people profession and people is what it's all about. What's good in life is meeting people. That's what's good in life." He finished his thought and began to stand up, "Hey you want another beer?"
"I've gotta get going soon. It's nearly eleven and the store'll close."
Jasper looked at him and he looked at him slow. "Okay," he said.
It was nearly eleven on a Tuesday. And while life was still bustling outside, with teenagers on the verge of life laughing teetering on the border of the shadow of the bar's neon sign, the day was indeed ending.
Jasper sat down with a heavy thud that rocked the table, making his beer spill over the table, "What's great in life is meeting people."
"And the thrill of meeting fascinating strangers like yourself."
"That's true, but it's too easy to be a stranger nowadays," he said simply though the effect was not simple. As if his brain was catching up to his mouth, Hugo saw how his expression changed, how he almost shrunk back into his seat. Then the mouth continued, "Maybe it's that I've been lonely for a long time, ever since I started working, maybe all my life or something." He paused and chuckled. Hugo was watching him intently. His brain fighting saying the mouth ought not to say such thing to a stranger, his heart saying why not. "Yesterday I found myself alone, 3AM, just me and I was tired so I went to bed. Wasn't thinking about nothing, not even Sara or anything and I'm just there staring up at the ceiling and I'm like... absolutely nothing." He trailed off again.
Hugo was unsure if he was just drunk but he was afraid to ask him who Sara was. In any case he knew everything there was to know. "I know the feeling. It's hard. It goddamn is hard."
"But tomorrow is far away and I'm glad to have met a stranger even though we aren't really strangers."
"It's crazy that we ran into each other here of all places."
"Maybe that's why I'm here."
"What?"
"No, I was just... Nevermind." He chuckled, "But tell me of your job, it sounds interesting."
Hugo glanced at his watch, "Lots of meetings, presentations. That sort of thing. Just today I was in meetings all day, and people wasting time on useless bullshit even though everybody just wanted to go home."
"Can't relate," he said laughing, "Most of our meetings are short."
"You don't know how lucky you are."
"Money's good?"
"It's alright," he said, looking at his watch again. He really had to go. "Listen Jasper, I've really got to go. Before the store closes."
He looked indifferent, "Well, it was nice meeting you."
"It really was," Hugo said, and because it seemed impossible not to say it, added "And hey Jasper, you seem like a great guy, don't fret about too much. Hang in there."
Jasper laughed, "Shit, man. Four years are still a lot, huh?" he said, and with a smile on his face said without emotion, "Great guy? Maybe once. Maybe not." And Hugo wasn't sure if he was right.
"It was really nice to meet you Jasper," he said and shook his hand.
As he turned to leave he heard Jasper call out "Be thankful life is growing larger and larger for you. In here it's just getting smaller and smaller."
Hugo didn't know what to respond, giving a wayward wave and "See ya."
Out on the street it had grown colder, though the remaining light in the sky was enough for him to see his reflection in the window as he passed by. His reflection staring back at him. His black suit and leather bag. His steps long and hurried. His thoughts stuck back somewhere in the bar. But he couldn't dwell on them. Try one moment and see if it lasts. It almost never does.