Random stories

I like to try new bars. The town’s full of them, after all, and the same old places lead to the same old people and the same old drinks mixed the same old way. Sometimes, it’s nice to try a new place. Besides, the way life is, it’s fun to meet new people. You never know how things will work out, after all.

Well, you might not.

Today’s destination was a newish place called Stration. It was nice and open, a set of floor-length windows letting light in through the front to reveal a long bar that nearly filled the narrow room. You have to not mind the looky-loos much, but I suppose to a bartender that’s free advertising of a sort. I was living proof of that; it always had a decent enough crowd when I passed by, so I decided to stop in.

As I entered, a few of the handful of patrons cast a confused glance. The bartender smiled apologetically and started to walk forwards, but before he could say anything I took a seat near the door, smiling back at him.

“Don’t mind them.” I said.

He appeared taken aback for a moment, glancing awkwardly between the two men that stood at either side of me. I didn’t have to turn to remember what they looked like: nondescript men in their mid-30s, both wearing navy-blue suits, both with shiny badges pinned to their lapels. Outside there’d be another six men, these ones all in black with conspicuous earpieces in their ears. I’m not sure I’d ever heard those ones speak.

“But…” the bartender began, before the man to my right cut him off.

“Really sir, don’t mind us.” he said. They refused to tell me their names, but I’d taken to calling him Glasses. The other was Beard, both for reasons that were obvious once upon a time.

“What can I get for you?” the man asked, his eyes still darting between me and the men behind me.

“Anything’s fine.” I replied, turning up well-practiced cheer, “I’m in the mood for something sweet, if you’ve got anything that fits the bill.”

The man paused for a moment in thought. “If you like beer, we just got a vanilla porter that’d fit the bill.” he smiled apologetically before continuing, “It’s mostly beers here, so unless you think whiskey is sweet that’s the best I got.”

“That sounds lovely.” I replied, a grin coming to my face.

It took the man a moment to return with a bottle and a chilled glass. The beer was a lovely dark color, and even as he poured it I could smell the faint scent of vanilla wafting from it. I smiled as I picked it up, but the bartender was once again looking at Glasses and Beard, an occasional glance outside showing he’d noticed the rest of my entourage.

An awkward silence fell over the bar, besides a couple too drunk to particularly mind their surroundings. I downed nearly half my drink in one go before speaking.

“Glasses, you guys are bothering everyone.” I said to the man on my right, turning fast enough to catch the barest hint of annoyance cross his face. I knew he hated the nickname. At some point he’d gotten contacts, or eye surgery, or whatever else they can manage when he’s from, but I refused to stop.

“We are legally allowed to enter public establishments with you, Ms. Mancer.” he replied, his voice flat and robotic. If it wasn’t for the rare emotion and the way he sweated on a hot day, I’d swear he was one.

I turned back to the bartender, shrugging my shoulders in exaggerated exasperation. “I try, I really do.” I turned again to face Glasses before continuing, “You’re not gonna buy anything, so just do that thing you always do.”

Glasses removed a credit card from his pocket and passed it across the bar, along with a crisp business card. The bartender read it for a second or two, his face running a fascinating gamut from annoyance and confusion, to realization with a touch of fear. He gripped the card and retreated to the other end of the bar, grabbing a glass to clean and seemingly determined not to look my way again.

I sighed.

“I wasn’t going to do anything.” I said, trying and failing to keep the annoyance from my tone. “I just wanted a nice beer or two. There’s not even anybody interesting here.”

Glasses remained silent, but from my other side I heard Beard’s apologetic tone.

“We don’t do it because we enjoy it, Ms. Mancer.” he said. He sounded like he meant it, too, which only annoyed me more.

“Really? Cause I have no idea why you do it.” I took another long drink to stop myself from saying anything more.

“We’ve explained it, Ms. Mancer.” he said, still disgustingly sincere, “I really do apologize that we can’t elaborate further.”

I drank the last of the beer to keep the bile brewing in me from spilling out. At least Glasses had the decency to be a bit of a dick about all this.

For a second I thought about having the same old argument. About how I didn’t really want kids, how I’d get an IUD put in, how I’d get my damn tubes tied if I had to to convince them. It never worked, but for a second I wanted to anyway.

And it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t even make me feel better, not for very long.

I fished a few bills out of my pocket, plenty to cover what I drank, and headed towards the door. Glasses and Beard lingered a few moments longer to collect their credit card, but I didn’t think about running. If they weren’t around a pair of the black suits took up their positions, just as they were right now as I headed down the street.

I tried to ignore the quick looks of confusion and fear as I walked. Maybe they were looking at my entourage, not me. Maybe they didn't recognize the badges they wore, or watch the news.

Maybe.

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Submitted by Goshinoh on Tue, Mar 22, 2022 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

It’s against the law to time travel back and kill someone before they do a horrible deed. It’s not against the law though to stop someone conceiving a child that will later become evil. After having a crowd follow you everywhere since puberty, you wonder how bad your future children really are.