The name is Ikegami Naoto, 29 years old, male. I am an owner of a small bar at the end of the street, a small rectangular shaped bar built on the first floor of a resident apartment. Nothing really stands out of it but what that is needed for a bar can be found here. I can be proud to say this place is the fruit of my many years of labor and savings. A job that doesn't requires much education or special talent to get it done. These requirements sound good for me, a guy who barely managed to get past high school and somewhat a loner by nature. All you really need is just the patience to handle occasional emotional outburst from the customer. People always has the tendencies to have a drink or two when they are in emotional peak or low, the second one tends to be the more frequent reason why people comes here. Which is why this job is perfect for me. because I don't like seeing people that is happier than me.
Some people said when you are drunk, you are the most honest. For some reason I can't find myself agreeing to this statement. Basically I am not a trusting person who would casually put my trust on something or people. If there is something that you can trust, that would be money and that is final.
Every Friday night there is always one man that never failed to show up here. A man in his mid thirties, tall in stature and gentleman in both mannerism and appearance. He is a very punctual and orderly man. Every week end, same time, same spot and the same beverage to the point that he can be called a monotonous machine. But I can't complain much about this either, he always deposit his money here on a weekly basis in "cash".
Tonight happens to be Friday night with all the regulars now properly assembled here and there in their usual spot, not to say the man of punctuality whose name I haven't knew to this moment.
Sitting in front me now is the man I am talking about. It was just another long Friday night for me as bartender and him as customer here. He orders another round of whiskey with his usual indifferent tone.
"Boss, another round...please" the man said so as he gulped the last sip of the remaining liquid in his glass.
A rare occurrence, this is the first time he orders more than 5 rounds of whiskey. Like I said, he is a man of order and punctuality. For him to be still dwelling here after eleven's and even ordering more than what he used to drink before is an interesting sight to see.
I didn't question him either for his out of behaviors doing. But it is good thing for me, more money rolling in!
"Here it is"
The whiskey is gone as fast as it was served after getting to the man's hand.
The man's face begins to turn red as if he was suffocated , he lets out a barrel of cough as he try to clear anything alien from his throat.
"Slow down, Mister"
I reached out for a glass to get him some water.
"No need, I am okay". The man waved his hand to indicate that he is perfectly fine although his face begs to differ.
He lets out another cough while the other people present begin to throw their gaze on him.
His word halted my action midway. Even though he said that his expression shows it all, he needs water.
"No need for thanks, you need it" I served out a water-filled glass towards him.
Needless to say, he drinks the water without any further delay.
A moment passed as I wait for the discomfort in his throat dispersed. I stared at him to see if he needs another one.
"Thank you for the water" he resumed with a word of thanks with a slight curve shown on his lip.
"You looked troubled" I let out a casual remark about him as I prepare another drink for the other customer.
Looking visibly flustered he raised his eyebrows.
"Do I look troubled?" he questions the remark given to him as if he was trying to deny that idea. But the frown on his face already gives away the answer.
Without expecting for any kind of response for my casual statement I struggled to find an appropriate way to end this conversation.
"I don't know Sir, it is just a casual remark" I answered with a congenial smile decorated on my face. The response I gave him is rather irresponsible and vague for someone that just tried to digs out the surface of people's problem. To put it bluntly, I am not really in the mood to listen to someone life's story.
Just like what I've hoped for, the man didn't utter a single word after that. A silent yet peaceful moment passed slowly as it was filled with a jazz music that I've bought during my free time. A perfect mixes of songs to set up the mood for this pub. An occasional small laughter and chatter can be heard as they mix in consummately as the background sound of the pub.
Not long after that, the man stood up and left an amount of money that was tucked under a glass. Dragging along his heavy footsteps he walked towards the pub's wooden door. As he left this place, I stared at his back. That man backside gives off the look of a troubled person as if he shoulders the weight of the world all on his own, that might be an over kill as a metaphor. But still, I can't help to let out a smile...a smile full with the sense of accomplishment. Seeing an unfortunate soul, it is one of the reasons why I chose this job. That may sounds twisted and cynical but this kind of people made me feel better about myself. The wooden door slammed down slowly to the knob side, I begin to wonder if he will ever come again.
