“Retell the most recent joke you’ve heard as a short piece of fiction.”
Gotta go with an old classic. This is one of my all-time favorites. I know, I’m a simple creature who’s easy to amuse.
Man walks into a bar and says, “Ouch!”
It was crowded for a Tuesday night. I had been there since work let out at 6 p.m. and was already on my third pint by 8 p.m. when I heard the door open. It had been a rough year for those of us in this small little town in the middle of Nowheresville, USA. We worked ourselves to the bone for small wages. Our bodies ached and our praises were slim, but at the end of the day, we always had The Bar to cheer us up.
The Bar was just as nitty gritty as you could imagine an old hometown bar to be. The floors were sticky with spilled booze and the seats were as uncomfortable as sitting on cold, wet cement, but it was still the best bar for miles. It was characterized by dim lighting, half-lit neon signs on the wall, and low-hanging bars that the owners installed to help anyone who needed that extra aid walking towards the door at closing time. “Just reach up,” was The Bar’s exit strategy.
When the door opened, I heard loud arguing outside and instinctively turned in its direction, nodding at old Jimmy who was sitting in his usual position at the bar. “Hey Joe,” I called out to the bartender. “Give Jimmy another round on me.” It is Christmas time, after all. Joe, being the best bartender around, didn’t need me to even finish my sentence before he had that whole damn beer poured and in front of good ole Jimmy.
The arguing continued. I heard a car door slam and an engine rev before the car speed off. A man stormed into the bar…and right into one of the low hanging bars.
“OUCH!” said the man. The rest of us just stared at the red faced stranger. He looked us all and we didn’t know if he was going to fight us or friend us until he exclaimed, “Shots for everyone!”
And that’s how Bobby McBryant became The Bar’s favorite new patron.