// Twinkle twinkle //

The line to the bathroom was stretched across the pool area. People had to move to let the players get space enough to get their turn counting. Drunken girls were laughing in to their drinks and the guys were toasting for and roaring when a underground song came on. At the bar people were hanging on the counter to get their orders correct and hands holding cash were waving in the air. Drunk enough to stand, people were grouping outside in a thick cloud of cigarette smoke. Seth walked along the backs of the people at the bar, sober enough to know that there was a specific ‘’cash only’’ part of the bar that was empty. He leaned across the counter to get attention from one of the evenings bartenders. He caught a shorter mans eyes, must’ve been in his late twenties, and smiled. The bartender came up and directly recognized Seth and shouted through the loudness of drunks around the bar ‘The usual, right?’ Seth made a large nodding gesture and reached the back pocket on his black Cheap Monday jeans to get his wallet, but it wasn’t there. In panic he started patting the other back pocket and the front ones and to his surprise found the wallet in the left front pocket. The wallet was heavy with change from the dinner he had at Subway, paying in cash. He grabbed a hand full of coins and counted them, ‘eight, nine, nineteen…’ and then he picked up a bill that said 20, just the exact amount needed.  ’39, here you go. Even and all!’ he said and smiled. The bartender took the money and threw them into the cash register without counting it. Seth felt unease and grabbed another bill that said 20 and slid it down the empty beer glass behind the counter. The bartender noticed it but was too busy mixing a drink to the loudest girl in the bar.

Seth dragged out one of the leather coated chairs at the table where his friends where in a deep conversation about sports. Something about the referee was judging based on which team he personally supported and something about a goal that was ‘’dead epic’’. He turned a bit in his chair to get a overview of the rest of the pub to see if he could recognize anyone else. The dance floor was deserted, since there were no live bands or karaoke this evening. The lines to the bathroom were shorter and the pool players had more space to play on. The sofa corner was occupied by a couple of middle-aged rockers who were head banging to some old rock ‘n’ roll song from the mid 70’s. That night was kind of dead, only one he recognized for real was a guy called Greg, friend of a friend.