Your humble narrator finds himself alone, distanced from the bar at a local chain on the north edge of town. The place was renovated recently but not the faces or the abdomens of most of my fellow soccer enthusiasts. This is where you go for central casting of Boynton.
There is a man in the opposite corner of me at the bar with orangish hair enjoying dioping his olive into his gimlet, I assume. He's a little bit of a gayish Chris Farley. Classic. Next to camo hat guy, next to NY Giants hat guy next to a pair that look to have literally just walked off the set of Walking Dead. An actual living zombie couple. Her mouth is sucked in and her eyes appear to be drawing fluid in from the rest of her body. Scraggly hair. Sunglasses adorning the top of her head. Her man has a mini mullet and unlike her actual green tinge he is touched by some Boynton sunburn.
It continues on around. 25 percent of the bar is female and their average weight is 30 pounds too many.
Anyway, anyway, anyway.
The bartendress, faithful reader, she's the redeeming quality of this corner of dislocated Mars from Total Recall. Hardworking brunette with a wisp across her forehead. Apple cheekbones. Skinny and works back there like a single mom on the hustle and as we pan to the right it opens up to a more normal view save the old old guy in the shorts at the bar and his old school wide brim hat of wool.
Speaking of wool. There was an apparition before me. The hairpiece so intensely dumbfounding and twisted I wasn't sure if he was real. Button down, gray slacks and somewhere between 70 and 275 years of age. Shark colored mange that somehow went every which way...
Cemtral casting Mars, but for 1 waitress and our upturned irish nose bartendress and what the hell? No goal for England?
The fallen.. just as I went to take a picture gay Farley... (not probably)
Oh shit.. Zombie wife... is... a... man
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