The Man on the Bar Stool

Every day like clockwork, a man came into the bar and sat down in the same stool every time at nine-o’clock and stayed for exactly one hour, all timed by the clock on the wall. Strangely, he never actually ordered a drink, just sat there staring at all the polished and colorful bottles on the back wall; but when ten-o’clock came around, he always put a bill on the bar before leaving. He never spoke to anyone.

One day, Bill walked in with his usual jubilant attitude, much to the pleasure of the other patrons, who cheered and sang his praises. He had been out in the world for a while and everyone was pleased to see him again. He noticed the man sitting at the bar did not stand, did not wave, or make any indication he had seen him come in, only stared at the bottles a little more.

Bill sat down at his usual table with Phil, Louis, Herman, and Sally, the most beautiful girl in the bar. He was very disturbed and irritated by the man at the bar. He asked many questions about him, which his friends answered readily. The more he heard, the more irritable and distrusting he became.

“Why doesn’t he talk to anyone?” asked Bill suspiciously, glaring over his shoulder at the man.

“No one knows,” said Phil simply. “He just came in one day and sat down.”

“Does anyone know anything about him?” asked Bill.

“He works at the steel-mill with me,” said Louis thoughtfully. “I remember he maintains the machines.
Good with his hands, from what I’ve been told.”

“I heard he just moved into town last month,” said Louis.

Herman shrugged. He never said much.

“Why would he come here if he doesn’t want to drink?” asked Bill, still very suspicious.

Sally made as if to say something, but Louis spoke first. “I could listen in tomorrow at work,” he
suggested. “He talks with the boss a lot. They seem to be on friendly terms.”

Bill suddenly became very agitated. “He’s friends with your boss?”

“Yes,” said Phil. “They talk all the time.”

“What is it, Bill?” asked Louis concernedly.

“He might be trying to gain favor with Phil’s boss!” said Bill heatedly. “He’s a devious man, that one.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the man. “I’ll bet he’s trying to steal someone’s job!”

The others gasped collectively.

“What do I do?” asked Louis worriedly. “I don’t want to lose my job!”

“You won’t,” said Bill reassuringly. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

They hatched an elaborate plan to learn everything they could about the man on the bar stool, whatever his name was, and find a way to muscle him out of the town.

“Where’s Sally?” asked Herman suddenly, glancing around.

Bill turned to see Sally just sitting down next to the man on the bar stool, a smile on her face. He
motioned for the others to be quiet and strained to hear what they were saying.

“What’s your name?” asked Sally, addressing the man.

“Mark,” said the man with a friendly voice, turning away from his scrutiny of the bottles.

“Why are you sitting here alone, Mark?” asked Sally curiously.

Mark shrugged. “I don’t drink anymore, but I have nothing else to do for the last hour of my evening,” he said simply. “So I sit here and listen. I used to love listening to people talk. The barman doesn’t kick me out, provided I pay for the space I use. Sometimes I order a soda.”

Sally smiled. “I’ve been trying to kick the habit too,” she admitted with a smile. “Buy me a soda?” she asked hopefully.

Mark smiled. “Sure,” he said, gesturing for the barman. “I hear there is also a great stand-up act at the theater down the street. Since I’m new in town, I thought I would go see it. Care to join me sometime?”

Sally smiled. “I would like that,” she said.

She glanced over at the others sitting at their table. They looked back at her, shocked and dumbfounded. Sally smiled back at them smugly.

Oh, if only they had just asked…


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