At the Idle Hour that time

In honor of my first year (last year? only year?) of grad school being over and since I decided pot luck suppers are lame I was out driving in the Vandy area today. No, I don't know what I was thinking. I was just sort of driving around-and I ended up on Music Row. You know where the boys makes the noise? 16th Avenue. I was just kind of driving around in lazy circles with no where I wanted to go. Gas may be $2.25 a gallon but cruising is still a pretty cheap way to spend the time. If you drive a Toyota Corolla anyway it is.
Ended up at the Idle Hour. This was about 3 in the afternoon. That's a late approximation-a little early to end up at a bar but I started caring when? Oh yeh, don't. Moving on. The Idle Hour is in what used to be a convenience store I guess. That guy who used to point the way isn't outside anymore. I never was there in the old incarnation-but I've seen pictures. So call it adopted memory. I walked in-Bobby was behind the bar. He can barely talk these days he croaked out that I needed an ID to get that Miller Lite and I obliged. I sat down at the corner barstool, just out of view in the mirror that runs the length of most of the bar. No one paid me much mind and that was fine cuz I was just having a quick beer before going off to do---something I dunno what I was planning on---nothin more or less.
There was a drunk guy down the other side of the bar. At least I'd presume he was drunk-he couldn't figure out how to work his Zippo. "Bobby!" he hollered. He nodded towards me and a beer appeared. "He bought you a beer, his name's John by the way if you want to know." Bobby said as he unscrewed the cap and sat the beer in front of me. I raised the bottle and said "Thank ya John" he nodded and I went back to reading the Scene.
The biggest scariest lookin guy in the bar stuck out his hand to me-"Name's Randall, I'm a bartender here. This yr first time?"
"Yeh, it is." I told him my name and we talked as he smoked a cigar and I drank my free beer. Then I went back to reading the Scene.
A bear of a guy, probably in his fifties, looked like he should be golfing, not drinking at the Idle Hour came over and asked if I'd be offended if he bought me a beer. I told him nah and Bobby brought me another round.
The phone started to ring-Bobby answered it yelled something impolite and hung up. The ringing started again. "You get it Randall, I ain't gonna mess with him." Randall answered the phone and said something that probably wasn't any more polite than the last thing said.
"He's drunk."
"It's 4 in the afternoon," I said.
"Doesn't stop him. He's crazy when he's drunk, Bobby won't put up with him."
The phone rang, Bobby picked it up and dropped it immediately back on the cradle. "That'll teach him." I guess it taught him he wasn't going to get any attention on the phone cuz the next thing you know in stumbled a very drunk blonde haired guy in a Nautica shirt.
"Watch yrself, he's wasted."
"I can handle my own."
"Just sayin'."
"And I appreciate it."
"Where're you from anyway?"
"I live on the East Side."
"This is a much better part of town than where you live."
"I like it. My hood that is. I like it."
The guy who had bought the last round came over to me, "You live around here?"
"No, like I said, I live on the other side of the river."
"What river?" he asked. Are there multiple rivers I don't know about?
"I'm pretty sure the Cumberland."
"What're you doing over here?"
"Wasting time."
"That's the best part of life, have another beer."
"I have to drive home. You want me to make it don't you?"
The guy acquiesced. I gathered my shit and threw a dollar in the tip vase.
"Nice to meet you" Randall shook my hand.
"You too, see ya next time."
"Yep."
"Next time when you can stay longer," the golf shirted guy said.
"Right on," and I walked into the sunlight of pre-rush hour traffic.