by John Grochalski
i like drinking beer after beer
on a sunday afternoon with you
in this bar where ancient men
tell the same stories over and over again
i like drinking beer after beer on a sunday afternoon
it’s a good way to kill a day
that so many others are killing with god and polite house calls
we like that jeff is in the bar today
when jeff is in the bar the old soul music plays
the philly sound he says
then he starts to dance
he tells us that last night he was at a club in park slope
park slope, man, he says
as if it’s another planet and not just another section of brooklyn
i tell jeff that i don’t like going to park slope
i tell him the beer costs too much up there
maybe park slope is another planet
jeff laughs and tells us that he was at a rave bar last night
i don’t know what a rave bar is
he said the place was packed with young girls
young girls in tight clothes
jeff tells us that he danced and danced
fifty-three years old and he was out on the dance floor all night
the dj thanked me, jeff says.
he thanked me for getting the party started
that’s good, i tell him.
i’ve never gotten a party started in park slope, or anywhere else.
it’s either a defect or
i’m just better than everyone else
jeff smiles and wanders over to the jukebox
a song by harold and blue notes has ended
our tribute to teddy pendergrass
jeff puts in more money to play more songs
could it be i’m falling in love comes on
jeff turns to me
who is it? he says
the spinners, i say
jeff comes over and slaps me five
that old philly sound, he says.
then he stares off into space
we each take a sip on our beer as light cascades
through the bar window
as sunday works its way toward sudden death.
he thanked me for getting the party started, jeff says again
to me and my wife
to no one
when we leave, jeff will tell his story
to anyone who will listen
it’s like any other story in this bar
like the one where ivan found b.j.’s wedding ring
in his pants pocket after they slapped five during a jets game
it’s another small legend that no one will know about
except for a few of us
the kind of legend that gets clouded over by the bigger ones
vast, ordinary legends that are so boring
you need only hear about them once
to know what they are all about.
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