Friday Dec.5: New Short Story

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Friday Dec.5: New Short Story

I am currently putting together all my best short stories, blog ramblings, and essays in a publication titled “Stories of Dubious Truths” to give away to my newsletter subscribers as a Christmas gift, because I know they love free stuff. Probably why I only sold 1 book last Friday when I put all my books on sale for 99 cents.

That didn’t sound passive aggressive at all, did it?

My First and Last Dive Bar

One time, as I travelled with friends to a new city, we decided to visit a dive bar. Not just a dive bar, but a real dive bar. Now, ten years earlier, this would have been a challenge, but that day it was only a matter of typing “real dive bar” into our favorite search engine. I would like to write that it was “Ask Jeeves”, but it wasn’t.

As luck would have it, there was one within walking distance that had a one-star review on Yelp. We nodded and agreed this would be our destination. The night was in its infancy, and as we walked, the streetlights flickered on as if to guide our way.

The sign above the alcove with the old wooden door—with a very small window—read: Bernice’s Tavern. As I reached out for the rusty handle, I noticed the handwritten sign duct taped to the brick wall. That sign read: Ring bell for entry. We looked at each other and I’m sure we all had the same thought.

Perfect.

I pressed the button, feeling the years of dirt from the countless fingers of others and hearing what sounded like a muted warehouse bell. Through a dusty side window, I could see a man lean over the bar and give us the once over. We obviously met the entry requirements, and we were greeted with the crackling buzz of the door lock.

Upon entering, we were greeted with the smell of cigarette smoke—new and old—beer—also new and old—and dim lighting. The narrow establishment had a long bar along the left, and a standing room ledge along the right wall which was adorned with crooked pictures, faded music flyers, and beer labels. Behind the bar, various old beer and alcohol signs hung, and on the beer cooler were several items that would not be out of place in a hoarder’s residence.

A few regulars sat at the bar, we just knew they were, and later it was confirmed when we looked at our pictures and recognized one of the patrons from the picture on the Yelp review.

We took our seats at the far end of the bar, beside the very small stage, although I’m not quite sure it met the specifications to be called that. An old curtain held up by shower curtain rings separated the front from whatever was in the back. The tattooed girl with black hair from the unshaven side of the head tied into a ponytail, immediately asked if we wanted the special—to be honest, it sounded like she asked us if we wanted “The Special”.

Intrigued—but not enough to say yes without more information—we asked what it was, revealing our non-local origin. The answer was a curt, “Beer and a shot. Two-fifty.” Four specials were ordered and several minutes later we were presented with four delicious PBRs (not our definition, but several days later, we overheard that same designation in another bar from a young man trying to impress what was obviously a first date*) and four shot glasses of whiskey.

As we drank, we struck up a conversation with our bartender and were soon joined by the man who had deemed us acceptable patrons. He introduced himself as the owner. I, being a bit of a smartass, said, “You don’t look like a Bernice,” which drew laughter from all within earshot.

“Bernice is my mother. I named it in honor of her. Want to meet her?”

Now, I’ll tell you if he had pulled out an urn full of ashes from under the bar, I would not have been surprised at the least, but he pulled back the curtain to reveal an old woman with a cigarette in her mouth sitting at a table covered in ashes, watching an old TV bolted to the wall.

“Say hi to my mom.”

“Hi, Mom,” we all said in unison, and she smiled and nodded. I’d like to be able to recall if there was anymore conversation with her because I’m sure it would have been just delightful, but let’s assume the curtain was closed after a certain amount of time had passed, leaving Bernice to smoke and watch her stories in peace.

After ordering another round of specials, we were also presented with complimentary keychain bottle openers, embossed with the name and address of the establishment. Nothing says classy like having a bottle opener that you can attach to your car keys.

We had other plans that evening, so we said our goodbyes and took our leave. The heavy door locked with a loud click behind us, and it was agreed that we made a good choice.

I’ve never gone to another dive bar since and I’m not sure I could because it’s never going to stand up to Bernice’s.

*After eavesdropping on the conversation between band sets, we concluded that this relationship was doomed.

-Leon

The story behind Free Book Friday:

I’ve met many authors and readers during my time marketing, cross-promoting, and blogging. I think writers have a responsibility to inform readers about all the indie authors out there in the very crowded world of book publishing. You can’t do it alone, and why would you when you have a supportive group available?

Readers don’t just read one author – they stick with their favorite genres. Therein lies the power in cross-promotion. If one of my readers buys a book from an author I promote, then chances are there will be a reciprocal effect, or so is the hope. Do I want to boost sales? Of course I do. Do I want to boost other’s sales? Why not. It’s called karma.

Some free book offers require a newsletter sign-up, which is a small non-monetary price to pay to try out a new indie author.

Reads From StoryOrigin

StoryOrigin allows authors to advertise their books to each other’s audience. I hope you have been able to discover a new favorite!

Free Books/KU

Review Copies (These are free!)

Review copies: Like reviewing books? Try my two poetry collections: Lines by Leon and A Wonder of Words

Newsletter:

Leon Stevens is a multi-genre author, composer, guitarist, songwriter, and an artist, with a Bachelor of Music and Education. He published his first book of poetry, Lines by Leon: Poems, Prose, and Pictures in January 2020, followed by a book of original classical guitar compositions, Journeys, and a short story collection of science fiction/post-apocalyptic tales called The Knot at the End of the Rope and Other Short Stories. His newest publications are the novella trilogy, The View from Here, which is a continuation of one of his short stories, a new collection of poetry titled, A Wonder of Words, and his latest sci-fi mystery, Euphrates Vanished.

My new book page: http://books.linesbyleon.com/