” There nothing I like better right now than a Cold Beer.” Said Lee emphatically with His eyes still Locked on The Fatal Four Way Refund Death Match still going Strong in front of Them.
“I know a place Near by. It’s My Actual Neighborhood Bar believe it or Not. Low Lights, Cold Beer, No $15 Cocktails, No Flare, No Pretentious Mixologists, No Dj, and No Trendy goddamn Hipster Half Wits. People at The Boozehound are content to leave one another in Peace. Respect the Institution of Bars.” said Dizzy almost growing giddy a the Thought, “It’s called the Boozehound and it’s a True American Classic Dive Bar.”
“Dive Bar you say?” responded Lee His Apprehension being quite evident.
“What? You got a fucking Problem with Dive Bars, I mean what are You one of those Commercial Sheep? One Those Applebee’s Assholes or What?!” demanded Dizzy defensively.
“No Offense its nothing fucking Personal in the least. It’s just that sometimes People get confused on the exact Definition of a Dive Bar. What you described is the Ideal Dive Bar Scenario and I’m liking it again don’t get Me wrong. Some People mistake a Shitty Hellhole of a Bar as What a Dive Bar is or should. When in Actuality its nothing like the fucking stupid Stereotype as Stereotypes go,” explained Lee plainly, “Dive Bars don’t Stink of Stale Beer or Urine, They don’t smell like fucking Vomit either. They’re not dirty, scummy, disgustingly unhygienic, The Bathrooms aren’t total shitholes that make Gas Station Restrooms look like the Fucking Four Seasons. You walk into a place like that its just a Shit Bar it’s No Dive Bar by Definition thats for sure.”
“Oh shit Ok I see what You’re saying. No I assure I’m not an Ignorant asshole or anything. Its a straight up by the Book Dive Bar.” said Dizzy with renewed Confidence.
With that the Two New Acquaintances departed the Theater leaving the Refund Turmoil behind. They walked several blocks through a nice Working Class Neighborhood until They Reached the Boozehound located on the Street Corner. Dizzy threw open the Door and strode in like He owned the fucking joint with Lee in tow.
Lee looked around the Bar assessing the Layout. To the left was the actual Bar that stretched almost the entire way down the wall, and a Row of High Backed Booths lining the wall to the right. The Restrooms were located all the way at the back of the Bar next to an Antique Wurlitzer Jukebox, and one of the World’s Last Pay Phones.
Dizzy and Lee posted up at the Far end of the Bar because Dizzy apparently had some fucking Mobster Complex. He said He always has to have His back to a Wall, and Where He could See the whole Bar but more importantly the Front Door. Lee wondered if Dizzy had a good reason to be Paranoid or if it was simply a Personal choice.
“See the Middle Aged Guy sitting in the Last Booth?” ask Dizzy in a hushed Tone.
“Yeah I saw Him when We came,” answered Lee, “Why what’s His deal?”
“Its one of those No One really knows. We Call Him Vladdy He first came to The Boozehound in the Winter of 1980, and been showing up every single day since. Vladdy keeps solo to Himself and He doesn’t say shit. Not that it matter though since Vladdy doesn’t speak a fucking lick of English and No One round here Speaks a lick of Russian, but Somehow Vladdy and the Bartenders have found some sort of way to Communicate even if it’s in a very Simplistic manner.” Replied Dizzy sparking up a Joint and continuing, “Oh it’s fine if I Smoke a little Weed in here I know the Owner. Anyway every morning when the Owner comes to Open Up Vladdy is already here and waiting on the Stoop. Everyday it’s the exactly same fucking routine. Owner Opens up, Vladdy takes His spot at the Last Booth along the Wall. After Vladdy takes a seat The Bartender brings Vladdy a Jar of Kosher Dill Pickles, a Shot Glass, and an entire unopened Bottle of this Insane Russian Vodka. I think I heard His Family actually makes the shit and ships it Stateside for Him or some crazy shit like that. It’s Vladdy so who knows.”
Dizzy paused for a minute to get the attention of the preoccupied Bartender who was standing with His back t the Bar intently scrutinizing the Football game that was on the Bar’s only TV. When Dizzy got the Bartenders attention He ordered Them a couple of Ice Cold DraftBeers along with a couple of Shots of Maker’s Mark before returning to the conversation.
“Well Vladdy spends the Day sitting in His Booth Taking Shots and Eating a few Bites of Pickle in-between until The Vodka Bottle is Empty. The Vladdy gets up and Leaves for where who the hell knows most likely its Home I’d suppose. And then it starts all over agin the next Morning kind of like an Alcoholic Version of that Bill Murray Movie fucking Groundhog Day and shit.” said Dizzy right before slamming a shot and a Beer, and then ordering another round.
Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Stupendous Installment of………
LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (32/365)
Thanks for Reading,
By Les Sober.