Chapter 31: Respite

After my long shower I decided to spend some time giving each of my weapons a thorough cleaning and oiling, they’d earned it after all. By the time I was satisfied with the sparkling cleanliness of my weapons it was already nearly time for the party to start. I had to rush to get dressed to make it at a reasonable time. I hate being late. Some would call me chronically early.

I ended up dressing up a bit more than I’d normally wear. Any other occasion I was quite content to wear a simple t-shirt and jacket, with a pair of jeans and my boots. That was the same thing I wore to just about every event if I could get away with it. Hell, I’d worn my boots to weddings a few times.

I decided that I’d just deal with any stares or glares that I got for wearing my newer magic boots. The comfort that they offered was simply too great for me to want to wear my dress shoes. The constant buff to my Stamina was also nice. As for the rest of me, I was still wearing blue jeans but a new pair that wasn’t stained or torn up, and a button up shirt with an undershirt. Normally I’d have one of my handguns hidden somewhere on my person, but that was no longer necessary with my magic items.

This evening I was going to have my pouch strapped to my side.

In the past I had carried around a first-aid kit on my belt for a few weeks, nobody had said a word about it. At work I had sometimes rocked a World War One style shotgun shell pouch that held some 00 Buck and a ten round AR mag, the idea being that if the store came under siege I could just grab whatever gun was handy. I believe it was reasonable to think that a leather pouch would go similarly unnoticed.

With my wardrobe settled, and a literal arsenal riding around in the pouch on my side, I got in my car and drove to the bar.

I had been to Lucy’s bar, on average, once a week for the last three years. Yeah, there had been a few times where I hadn’t been able to make it either due to finances mandating that I cut back on the alcohol fund, but that was balanced by periods where I’d gone every night for a month straight.

Did I have a problem? Yeah, there was a time where I did. I’m not ashamed to admit I used to wake up and start drinking immediately. I realized how that was spiraling and have since imposed a rule on myself that I’m only allowed to start after 5pm (with very few exceptions involving holidays), and there is a heavy restriction on how many I’m allowed to have. Lucy was well aware and supportive of that rule.

The bar was, of course, named for its owner. Lucy was an older Filipina woman of an exact age that I’d never felt brave enough to ask about. She ran the place with the help of her son Alon and her Japanese husband Aki. I have to say that one of the biggest reasons I kept drinking there after all this time is Lucy’s habit of forcefully adopting any male regulars as her quasi sons. This entailed the giving of free food and frequently trying to hook us up with the daughters of the older women who drank there.

Beyond her motherly tendencies, I also cannot count how many free drinks Aki had given me. I had learned early on that if I sang Hotel California on karaoke night then there would be a drink waiting for me when I sat back down. Then there was the barbeques. Give Lucy any reason, be it a birthday, holiday, or “it’s Tuesday”, and she’d host a barbeque. Most of the regulars would show up with food, drinks would get discounted, and we’d all have a great time.

Fred’s birthday parties were no exception to that tradition. If anything, they were the peak example. By the time I showed up there was a crowd meandering around the large parking lot and on the outdoor patio. Three massive grills had been set up, manned by Fred himself and two of his friends from the city who owned a barbeque joint. A line of people stretched past me as they waited for their food. I had a bit of trouble finding a spot to park.

Fred, the lucky fuck, had earned his fortune via lottery tickets, gambling, and getting into crypto when it was a penny a dozen. So long as his investment broker didn’t terribly fuck up, the guy didn’t need to work again a day in his life. The guy could have owned the bar if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He was perfectly content to give Lucy his money damn near every night before going back home to his massive ranch outside of town.

Before you ask, no, he would never share any of the money itself, but damn if he didn’t share the love. Each time I’d been invited to a range day with him, I’d show up to find a pallet of ammo for us to use. When I’ve gone drinking with him? Didn’t spend a single dime. If you ever have a chance to secure the friendship of a person like Fred, seize it immediately.

He waved at me as I walked past the barbeque line, so I stopped to say hi and wish him a happy birthday. He informed me that it was an open bar tonight, so I made my way inside to get a drink. There was a sign on the bar that read “All drinks tonight courtesy of Fred.”. Lucy, upon seeing me walk in, was already mixing together a moscow mule for me. She had it ready before I could cross the room, and slid it across the bar as I sat down.

“Hello James! Karaoke will start soon. You sing tonight?”

If there is one thing in the world that can be said about me, it's that I never turn down the chance to sing karaoke so long as there are songs available that I know. It was a common occurrence, when the other bar goers had tolerated it, that I would sing until my vocal cords gave up and I ended up sounding like a Fallout ghoul.

I love singing Karaoke.

It’s the sort of thing that brings people together. You can take twenty people from every walk of life. It doesn’t matter what creed, religion, or political beliefs that they hold, if you start singing Country Roads then suddenly each one of them is proudly from West Virginia.

“Indeed I will! Is Aki here tonight?”

“No, he had business to attend to, will be gone until tomorrow.”

I picked up my drink and took a sip. As always it was just how I liked it. No mint, lime in the drink itself instead of on the rim, copper mug pre-chilled. I had actually bought a set of the mugs for her for Christmas, so I had a permanent discount on any drinks that used them (when they weren’t being bought for me).

There I sat enjoying my drink for a few minutes until I heard the door open. By instinct I turned my head to see who was walking in, and was pleased to see Charlie making his entrance. He was wearing slacks and a white button-up, and I could see the faint outline of his Sig Sauer P365 at his appendix. It wasn’t a bad choice of handgun, I just wasn’t personally a fan. It didn’t feel great in my hand and the trigger just felt weird to me.

“Woah now, it's a rare sight seeing you in here!”

He joked as he sat down right next to me and motioned to Lucy. She started mixing together his choice drink of Disaronno and Coke.

“So, how was your day? Anything interesting happen?”

He stared at me with a smirk on his face.

“Nothing much. A bit of morning exercise.”

Lucy handed him his drink and he picked it up, holding it toward me.

“Well, here’s to a hopefully long-lived morning exercise routine for the both of us!”

“Here here!”

I clinked my drink against his and we both took a swig.

“You see what Fred was cooking up out there?”

“I didn’t get a close look. I did smell chicken and pork though.”

“I think I saw some lumpia.”

Lucy piped up when Charlie mentioned the signature Filipino dish.

“I brought that! Stayed up almost all night to make sure there was enough!”

“And that’s why we love you Lucy!”

She beamed at us before moving away to serve the next patron.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“While we have a moment… I noticed some stuff since leaving your house.”

“Like what?”

“Why the hell is everything in high definition? Christ, everywhere I look feels like I’m playing Skyrim with every graphics mod in existence.”

“Oh, shit… Charlie, what is your Wisdom right now?”

“Eight?”

“Fuck… You used every point you got on it…”

“Yeah! That’s what you told me to do!”

“I forgot that level five gives bonus points! Shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Dude. My Wisdom is only four.”

“Damn. So what does that mean for me then?”

“Wisdom increases both your mental resistance, and your ability to perceive your surroundings.”

“So that’s why I can hear that couple in the corner talking about how he totally doesn’t have a thing for her sister despite what she found on his phone yesterday.”

“Yep.”

Charlie leaned back on his stool and took another sip of his drink.

“Shit. Well. I guess it's a good thing, everything considered?”

“Yeah. I think that you’ll resist the Dungeon’s influence more than I’m capable of. So it’s up to you now to make sure I don’t get myself killed! Ha!”

I chugged down the rest of my drink and slammed the copper mug down on the counter. Lucy quickly collected it.

“No mule this time. Can I get a cider instead?”

“Yep!”

She reached into the fridge behind her and retrieved an apple cider. The cap popped off before she handed it to me.

“Hitting it heavy tonight?”

“Bah, I figure I’ve earned a night to drink and have fun. All I’ve done for like a week straight is dungeon delve and work on my guns.”

“You two talk about that new fantasy game? Alon won’t stop playing!”

Lucy came back around to drop off a glass of water for me.

“Sure, Lucy, we’re talking about the game.”

“You take care! Don’t just sit inside all day and play games! Get outside! Meet a girl so you can stop hitting on all my customers here!”

“This coming from the lady that keeps trying to hook me up with her friends’ daughters!”

She huffed and walked away again.

“You know that she’ll never give up until you come in here with your arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder with a ring on her finger, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You ain’t getting any younger man. Did you know your mother even started bugging me to get on your ass about finding a wife? Just last week she called to bring it up again.”

“Sounds like her. Did I tell you what she said about having grandchildren?”

“Maybe? Refresh my memory?”

“So I was visiting home one time, and she was sorting stuff in storage. She pulls out some of her old porcelain dolls, from when she was a little girl.”

“Uh huh.”

“She holds one up, and she says to me, ‘ya know, I’ve been keeping these in case you or your siblings have daughters, so I can pass them on.’.”

“And what did you say?”

“Well I asked her, ‘What if none of us have daughters?’.”

I took another drink.

“She quickly responded ‘then you better keep trying until you have a daughter!’”

“Oh geeze.”

“Then I say to her, ‘And if we just end up with like twenty sons?’. She says, ‘Well one of them better be gay cause I want a goddamned granddaughter!’.”

Charlie choked on his drink, spraying it across the counter. Lucy scowled in disapproval at the mess as she came by with a rag to clean it up.

Charlie sat there laughing for a few seconds before finally stopping to catch his breath.

“Fucking hell man. I gotta remember to bring that up next time I see her! I’d love to see the reaction on her face.”

“Oh please do. I never let her live it down.”

Motion on the stage caught my attention. I turned to see that the karaoke equipment was almost done being set up. The jockey was getting his laptop ready to queue up songs.

I was in front of him in an instant, leaving Charlie mid-conversation. I felt the burning need to sing.

“Hey Jason. Is it ready to go?”

He looked up, clearly surprised at my sudden appearance, but smiled when he recognized me.

“Uh, yeah James, what song are you starting with tonight?”

“Queue me up for Mustang Sally?”

“Sure, not certain I have it, let me check.”

He typed on his laptop, and a moment later clicked something.

“Got it. Ready when you are.”

He picked up the microphone from its charger and handed it to me. I took it.

“Thanks!”

I leapt up onto the stage with a smooth motion that I’d done a thousand times before. It used to be, before Jason got sick and had to take a break for a few months, that every Tuesday night was karaoke night at Lucy’s.

I looked around the room, seeing a lot of familiar faces. A combination of Fred’s friends who had traveled here for his birthday, Lucy’s regulars, and other locals in town who I’d seen at the store or had sold a gun to sat around. They looked up as the jockey made an announcement.

“And next up on the stage is James with Mustang Sally.”

A few of them cheered, and a few got up with their drink to walk outside to the patio area rather than listen to a drunk man sing.

For one, I wasn’t drunk (yet). Two, they didn’t know what they were missing out on.

I watched the small monitor that the jockey had set up for the lyrics to appear while the signature bassline flowed from the speakers around the room. A few of the attendees cheered as they recognized it, others simply returned to their drinks and conversations.

I’d be among the first to admit that my voice can never compare to the likes of the legendary Wilson Pickett. That being said, I like to think that I have a pleasant enough singing voice. As the song finished the regulars clapped, a few of them stood up to get in line to queue up their own songs. I hopped down from the stage and walked back to the bar. Charlie held up his glass in a mock toast.

“To the great singer, may his voice grace our ears always!”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t see you ever getting up there. Always down here talking a lot of shit.”

“That’s because my singing sounds like a bunch of dying cats, if I recall the way you described it last time I tried.”

“Practice makes perfect, you just gotta keep trying!”

“After criticism like that? No thanks. I’ll stay over here and drink while I let the others flex their vocal cords.”

“Bah, you’re no fun.”

“Is that’s the thanks I get for saving the eardrums of everyone in this bar? Fine. I gotta go take a piss. You go pick a song for me while I’m in the bathroom.”

He drained his drink and sat it down, signaling Lucy to get him a refill as he stood up. I watched him walk toward the men’s room and then turned back toward the karaoke line. I was about to move when the jockey spoke into his mic again.

“And next up we have Charlotte with Unpublished Critics.”

Hold up. I recognized that song.