Part 20 - Beer
February 18th 2007 10:14
La was the first to go in search of Re.
He waddled out of the ship on a hot afternoon, squinty eyed, stung by the first rays of non-artificial light he’d seen in thousands of years.
Stepping away from the ship’s exhaust funnel he trudged on to the footpath and down the hill to a busy street called Parramatta Road.
The short walk crinkled parts of his jumpsuit (armpits, crotch and crack) leaving him chafed and sore.
On the corner was a building. Staring through the windows he could see people who sipped drinks and stared back at him. He found the door and entered.
There was noise, horrible, jarring, electronic, that sounded like a man speaking monotonously repeating names over and over again but each time the order was different. Suddenly the man's voice became highly agitated. He spoke faster, and faster. Men in the room were cheering him along, yelling, excited. There was one great “hurrah!” before everyone was again quiet and calm. The electronic voice instantly returning to sedated monotone.
“Hello, Santa’s come early,” said a man standing behind a counter as he filled a glass with frosty, slowly bubbling, liquid.
“Excuse me,” La smiled, “I wonder. Could I have one of those?”
“Certainly my dear, make your way around to the Ladies’ Bar and someone will be out to serve you.”
“The Ladies’ Bar?”
The man pointed to a door with a sign – 'Ladies’ Bar'.
“But I’m not a lady,” La muttered and pushed his way through to the other room.
It was quieter, music played. Two women sat drinking the bubbly drink and eating small brown things. Casting aside their strange looks, La approached the bar and waited for service.
Soon enough the man from the front arrived and asked La what he’d like to dink.
“I’ll have a glass of that bubbly brew everyone else is drinking.”
“One beer coming up.”
Rolls of skin merged with the bar as La leant against it. “Tell me why you couldn’t serve me in the other room.”
“You ever been to a pub before?” the man asked.
La scanned the room, “No, I haven’t.”
The man finished pouring the beer and set it on the bar to rest. “That was the gentlemen’s bar. It is customary for ladies on their own to sit in here, the Ladies’ Bar.”
“But I am not a lady,” La smiled.
The barman found this to be very funny.
“A good one miss, very funny, and because this is your first visit to a pub this one’s on the house.”
La was confused, “Where is the house?”
Laughing again the barman returned to the other room.
La picked up the drink and sniffed it. The glass was icy cold, the smell intense.
He took a sip, it was mostly froth.
He took a bigger sip and swallowed. Bitter, icy bubbles swirled around and down his throat. On hitting his stomach a chill instantly spread through his body, followed by warmth.
He raised the glass again and took a gulp. Again the swirling bubbles and instant chill and heat, but shortly after the pleasure came the pain. Dull at first, it began just behind his eyes, and then grew in strength and size with alarming speed.
In agony La rubbed his forehead; his watery eyes squinted.
One of the women noticed, “Take it easy love.” She said, approaching him. “You shouldn’t drink so fast. Now you’ve got a ice-ache, but don’t worry, it won’t last long.” She rubbed La’s temples and the pain vanished.
“Thank you,” he said, relieved.
“Any time, love. Why don’t you come sit with us? We’ll take care of you.”
Squatting over a very small and uncomfortable chair La introduced himself to the women, Margaret and Myrtle.
“I’m looking for a friend, he’s been missing for some time.”
“What does he look like?” asked Myrtle.
“He looks like me, only quite a bit smaller and he’s got darker hair.”
Margaret held back a smile, “You’re not from around these parts are you?”
“No,” said La, sipping more beer, “you can tell?”
“From Melbourne are you?”
“That’s a long way from here is it?”
“Yes, quite a way.”
“I’m from a bit further than that,” said La empting his glass.
“My shout,” said Myrtle, and went to the bar. La looked at the ceiling, it was strange, it seemed to spin ever so slightly.
“So how long are you in town?” Margaret continued questioning.
“Oh, we live here now.”
“We?”
“My friends and me.”
“Really? How interesting. You must come here again and bring your friends. Perhaps you could entertain us with a number or two.”
Myrtle returned with the beers. La sipped his; he had no idea what Margaret was talking about: two is a number.
La sat in silence and finished his beer. There was a terrible rumbling inside his stomach. It must have been loud because Myrtle said, “The Loo’s out the back love,” and pointed to another door with a sign on it – 'Toilet'.
“Thankyou,” La stood unsteadily and staggered to the sign.
Through the door was a paved courtyard, at the end was a small room. Somehow La got to it, squeezed his way through the door and closed it behind him. This was nothing like a toilet. There was a convoluted seat with a hinged black top that opened and closed, inside the seat it was hollow and had water at the bottom.
La put the seat down and sat on it, waiting for the computer to initiate the bowel extraction. His stomach grumbled again, this time it didn’t stop, it grumbled and growled and an unusual sensation made its way through his intestines and down toward his backside. The grumbling settled but the sensation intensified.
Without any warning the small room filled with a most unpleasant noise and La’s hefty body rose into the air. He crashed through the roof of the toilet and flew high into the sky.
“That’s unusual,” he whispered.
He waddled out of the ship on a hot afternoon, squinty eyed, stung by the first rays of non-artificial light he’d seen in thousands of years.
Stepping away from the ship’s exhaust funnel he trudged on to the footpath and down the hill to a busy street called Parramatta Road.
The short walk crinkled parts of his jumpsuit (armpits, crotch and crack) leaving him chafed and sore.
On the corner was a building. Staring through the windows he could see people who sipped drinks and stared back at him. He found the door and entered.
There was noise, horrible, jarring, electronic, that sounded like a man speaking monotonously repeating names over and over again but each time the order was different. Suddenly the man's voice became highly agitated. He spoke faster, and faster. Men in the room were cheering him along, yelling, excited. There was one great “hurrah!” before everyone was again quiet and calm. The electronic voice instantly returning to sedated monotone.
“Hello, Santa’s come early,” said a man standing behind a counter as he filled a glass with frosty, slowly bubbling, liquid.
“Excuse me,” La smiled, “I wonder. Could I have one of those?”
“Certainly my dear, make your way around to the Ladies’ Bar and someone will be out to serve you.”
“The Ladies’ Bar?”
The man pointed to a door with a sign – 'Ladies’ Bar'.
“But I’m not a lady,” La muttered and pushed his way through to the other room.
It was quieter, music played. Two women sat drinking the bubbly drink and eating small brown things. Casting aside their strange looks, La approached the bar and waited for service.
Soon enough the man from the front arrived and asked La what he’d like to dink.
“I’ll have a glass of that bubbly brew everyone else is drinking.”
“One beer coming up.”
Rolls of skin merged with the bar as La leant against it. “Tell me why you couldn’t serve me in the other room.”
“You ever been to a pub before?” the man asked.
La scanned the room, “No, I haven’t.”
The man finished pouring the beer and set it on the bar to rest. “That was the gentlemen’s bar. It is customary for ladies on their own to sit in here, the Ladies’ Bar.”
“But I am not a lady,” La smiled.
The barman found this to be very funny.
“A good one miss, very funny, and because this is your first visit to a pub this one’s on the house.”
La was confused, “Where is the house?”
Laughing again the barman returned to the other room.
La picked up the drink and sniffed it. The glass was icy cold, the smell intense.
He took a sip, it was mostly froth.
He took a bigger sip and swallowed. Bitter, icy bubbles swirled around and down his throat. On hitting his stomach a chill instantly spread through his body, followed by warmth.
He raised the glass again and took a gulp. Again the swirling bubbles and instant chill and heat, but shortly after the pleasure came the pain. Dull at first, it began just behind his eyes, and then grew in strength and size with alarming speed.
In agony La rubbed his forehead; his watery eyes squinted.
One of the women noticed, “Take it easy love.” She said, approaching him. “You shouldn’t drink so fast. Now you’ve got a ice-ache, but don’t worry, it won’t last long.” She rubbed La’s temples and the pain vanished.
“Thank you,” he said, relieved.
“Any time, love. Why don’t you come sit with us? We’ll take care of you.”
Squatting over a very small and uncomfortable chair La introduced himself to the women, Margaret and Myrtle.
“I’m looking for a friend, he’s been missing for some time.”
“What does he look like?” asked Myrtle.
“He looks like me, only quite a bit smaller and he’s got darker hair.”
Margaret held back a smile, “You’re not from around these parts are you?”
“No,” said La, sipping more beer, “you can tell?”
“From Melbourne are you?”
“That’s a long way from here is it?”
“Yes, quite a way.”
“I’m from a bit further than that,” said La empting his glass.
“My shout,” said Myrtle, and went to the bar. La looked at the ceiling, it was strange, it seemed to spin ever so slightly.
“So how long are you in town?” Margaret continued questioning.
“Oh, we live here now.”
“We?”
“My friends and me.”
“Really? How interesting. You must come here again and bring your friends. Perhaps you could entertain us with a number or two.”
Myrtle returned with the beers. La sipped his; he had no idea what Margaret was talking about: two is a number.
La sat in silence and finished his beer. There was a terrible rumbling inside his stomach. It must have been loud because Myrtle said, “The Loo’s out the back love,” and pointed to another door with a sign on it – 'Toilet'.
“Thankyou,” La stood unsteadily and staggered to the sign.
Through the door was a paved courtyard, at the end was a small room. Somehow La got to it, squeezed his way through the door and closed it behind him. This was nothing like a toilet. There was a convoluted seat with a hinged black top that opened and closed, inside the seat it was hollow and had water at the bottom.
La put the seat down and sat on it, waiting for the computer to initiate the bowel extraction. His stomach grumbled again, this time it didn’t stop, it grumbled and growled and an unusual sensation made its way through his intestines and down toward his backside. The grumbling settled but the sensation intensified.
Without any warning the small room filled with a most unpleasant noise and La’s hefty body rose into the air. He crashed through the roof of the toilet and flew high into the sky.
“That’s unusual,” he whispered.
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