Happy Hour

by Sis

October 2005

 

Here is Sis’ story. Please let her know if you like it.

 

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Two men go into a bar...

 

Well, actually, it's more of a bar/restuarant, so there's a smattering of college students, families, and singles out on a date.  Quite reputable, and not a place where one would dare to actually get drunk.

 

And there is no happy hour, and no one is happy anyway, least of all the two very good looking gentlemen sitting at the bar sipping at some brightly colored fruity drinks that would send one into bankruptcy before drunken oblivion.

 

Both are wearing glasses, and look quite scholarly.  One has long curly hair, and is wearing comfortable and well-worn clothes.  The other is dressed neater and in much more traditional attire, almost military in bearing.

 

"Man, what a week," the curly haired man shrugs.  Since the bartender looks like he is a college business major in real life, he offers no indication that he has even heard the comment.

 

The other man is listening however.  "I've had those."

 

"I died,"  the first man says flatly.

 

The second man takes another drink.  "Been there, done that."

 

As if noticing each other for the first time, they turn away from staring at the back of the bar, and look at each other.

 

"Blair," says Curly Hair.

 

"Daniel," says Mr. Neat.

 

"So what's your story?" Daniel asks.

 

"Pissed off the wrong woman, ended up in face down in a fountain."

 

"Woah.  That is a bummer."

 

"Your turn." 

 

"Unfortunate accident."

 

"So did you have " Blair paused,  "an out of body experience or anything?"

 

"You could say that."

 

"Me too."

 

Pause.

 

"So what do you do for a living?" 

 

"Anthropologist."

 

Daniel looks interested.  "Really?  I'm an archeologist - the other A science."

 

"I know, everyone is always confusing the two.  That's really weird man, it's not like either profession is all that common and here we ended up running into each other."

 

"So do you work in the field - university?"

 

Blair looks into his drink as if considering how to answer.  "Yeah - most of the time.  I also work for the police force - well, work may to be too strong a word - that implies pay.  It has to do with my dissertation subject.  Where do you work?"

 

"I'm here to see a friend.  I work in Colorado for a military complex."

 

Blair takes another drink.  "So why don't you work for a university - or rather why do you work for the military - or can't you tell me?"

 

"Only if I kill you afterward."

 

"Oh, one of those."

 

"Fraid so.  I tried to fit into the academic life for years, but I just couldn't seem to be taken seriously - my theories fell sort of flat."

 

Blair laughed, in a less than humorous fashion.  "Yeah, my dissertation is kind of iffy at times."

 

Daniel just shook his head.  "Science is a harsh mistress.  Teases you, then kicks you when you're down."

 

"Nah, she just likes playing hard to get."

 

"So what do you say Blair, wanna go somewhere we can really knock down some hard liquor?"

 

"Why not?  Haven't done that for a while.  One thing I learned to do while surrounded by a bunch of cops is learn to drink."

 

"I learned the same thing in the military."

 

They both left a tip with their unfinished drinks and walked out the door.

 

The bartender shook his head.  "Drunken scientists.  Just when you think you've seen it all..."

 

Continued in Judy’s sequel…