I sat with Roman in my cozy corner of the bar.  It was his night off and instead of staying away from the place he worked ten plus hours a day, he was drinking the night away with vodka martinis and tequila shots. “Are you ready for your story?” he asked. “Damn skippy,” I answered, slapping my hand onto the bar.  “I love Roman … Continue reading Barfly: Chapter Three

I rolled over with a stretch and a yawn.  I hated mornings yet I woke up like clockwork at the exact same time.  I could have passed out drunk at seven a.m. and by eight-thirty, I’m awake.  If I’m hung over, I force myself to return to slumber.  If I’m not, I stare at the ceiling and ponder why I’m awake.  Outside, the rain was … Continue reading Barfly: Chapter Two

bar·fly ˈbär-ˌflī noun:  Somebody who spends large amounts of time in bar          Would that definition apply to someone who works in a bar as well?  Would they be barflies or just bartenders, servers, and so on?  I’m going with the latter.  They’re a step above barfly because they’re getting paid to hang out with the real barflies. Don’t ask me if I’ve seen the … Continue reading Barfly: Chapter One