TITLE: Bitter Bar Girl
GENRE: Adult Fiction
Friday evening. A Micro-Brew Aficionado lurks half way down the bar. He laments our lack of international beers, namely those from the far East.
“Don’t you have jibiiru? Otaru? Any kind of happoshu at all?” he asks running his fingers through his tell-tale center-part with no regard for the fact that I’m solo in front of fifty other guys who all want to order. He just goes on and on.
“Sorry,” I say with a modicum of regret. “What can I get you have instead?”
“No Hong Kong SAR? Don’t you people know anything at all about good beer?” His squint at the menu board gives me a shot straight up his flared nostrils and into his pea-sized brain. “I don’t see any Yona Yona Ale on the list either,” he says with distaste. “Haven’t you heard of Tui East India Pale?”
For about five seconds I contemplate my fate. I can hear the murmur of the unserved, feel their scathing looks pinging off my skull as the swarming crowd five deep almost forms en masse to stampede. I try to resist but something inside me gives way. A fissure opens and Bitter Bar Girl gushes forth.
“Look, you snot-nose,” she spews, “if you can’t find something here then you need to go home like a good little know-it-all and hope the mailman brings your Beer of the Month installment. Next!” I leave him and his unhinged jaw to flap on the bar.
Since Kevin, the owner, has been in Maui, Bitter Bar Girl has ripened into a connoisseur of the cutting remark, savoring her litany of rude responses like a wine snob covets a supple full-bodied Merlot.