Hear Jim’s Red Clay diary podcast: https://youtu.be/eYJLRoTvV5c
or read the transcript below:
THUD MACTHUD AND THE SEAT-YOURSELF BARROOM
Thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…
The foyer of the downtown barroom enfolds me with deep, resounding, rhythmic percussion. As I enter the darkened neon-lit drinkery-eatery, I embrace an atmosphere totally different from the hustled street outside.
I await folks who plan to have dinner with me, so it seems only right to purchase a Diet Coke at the bar and take a seat near the front. The music is contagious.
Thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…
I focus my people-watching senses and enjoy the spectacle.
Newcomers enter and look around, disoriented and ready for a new adventure. Regulars enter and grab a menu from the metal stand inside the doorway and head to the back to find booth or table. Couples appear, smiling and hopeful of romance and chat.
The bartender greets customers, takes orders with his finger-activated screen, and transmits data to cooks and servers.
Thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…
I am still waiting for my companions, so my time is spent sipping beverage and taking notes on a Mister Rogers Neighborhood sticky-note pad. Mister Rogers grins his approval.
Diners and imbibers are relaxed and ready to loosen up in this Friday night after-work venue, their youth and vitality all aglow, their momentary assurance of pleasure and immortality thus far unbroken.
Thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…
If I were an habitue of this sort of establishment, if I were fifty years younger and filled with ignorance of consequences, I might meet someone here and spend an hour philosophizing and flirting. I might change my name to Thud MacThud…doesn’t that sound cool? “Hi, my name is MacThud…Thud MacThud,” in my best Sean Connery voice.
Just a moment of lapse. Back to the present.
Thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…thud mac thud thud boom…
As usual, my brief time at an isolated table atop a backless stool in a neon-world barroom is the funnest part of the evening. I don’t even need to meet and eat. What I take away is a fine memory of a fine few minutes at a sociable hot spot within a percussive dream in a lively nighttime town near the center of the universe.
I tip the bartender and stroll back to the shop, the shop that is indeed the center of my workday universe. I drive home to the second center (yes, the universe has many centers, and you are one of them) and have a pleasant time conversing with my wonderful soul mate.
Just another Friday night in a Friday night town in Deep South Alabama
© by Jim Reed 2020 A.D.