Banterist

From New York, original humor writing & commentary by Brian Sack. Subject to all the flexible quality standards of internet self-publishing.

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Poland Dispatch: Review, Village Bar

The village bar, so called because it’s the bar and in a village, is a smallish one-room affair. There are a handful of tables and folding chairs likely purchased from the equivalent of a Bed Bath & Beyond were such a thing to exist here.
There is one beer on draft. Several beers are available in bottles. The bottles are stored next to the bartender, stacked three cases high. This explains why your beer is warm.
A pint of beer will set you back 65 cents. A bottle runs about 78 cents. Assuming you have a few dollars, you will be able to experience the whole range of warm beers and the cold draft one. If you’re in the mood to dine, potato chips are available. There is an electronic darts game for your pleasure, wedged between the wall and the bar. Make sure no one is sitting at the bar or they will be sitting in between the electronic dart game and your darts.
The front door of the bar was recently bricked over because village people felt it was wrong for a bar’s door to face a church and school. The entrance is now in the back, with the door opening on to anyone who may be playing darts.
The bathroom is remarkably clean, considering it is a bathroom in a village bar and that it is unisex. The bar is not handicap accessible, nor are there any plans to make it such. Smoking is totally allowed, and in fact may be mandatory.
The village is home to several folks, many of whom know each other. They may or may not be congenial depending on several factors, including but not limited to whether you slept with someone’s significant other, or told someone’s significant other that their significant other has been sleeping around. Some of the folks you may encounter include:
-A gentleman your brother-in-law knows who is celebrating his birthday and is so drunk he can barely stand up.
-A gentleman with an eye patch energetically declining the last cigarette. This is apparently due to the widely held belief here that “even a whore” wouldn’t take someone’s last cigarette.
-A gentleman passed out face down on a table. I was told this is called “stamping documents” because the posture resembles a bureaucrat hunched over a desk.
-A gentleman who gained an extra girl because his friend is “stamping documents.”
-Various people staring at you because you’re not from the village.
-A gentleman named the equivalent of Martin, described as the “gasoline guy.” He lives near the village pharmacist and would like to discuss rising oil prices.
-A couple married for eight years with an eight year old daughter.
-A lady who works at the town hall. She is considered a power player because she can get you in to the big New Year’s Eve party.
The village bar is open from whenever until sometime. Air conditioning is manual. The village bar does not accept credit cards, but you can run a tab and pay later. They trust you. Dress code is farm casual. Reservations are not necessary. The village bar is located on the village’s main street, right around the church, school and everything else for that matter.


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