FicWad

It's late, very late, but New York City won't be sleeping for the rest of his lifespan. While the night clubs are opening their doors for entertainment and the gangsters are reclaiming their territory in the forms of the dark and shady back alleys, I am at work in my own bar.
The guests are clearly in the mood tonight as they are comfortable with the joyful taste of alcohol, burning on their tongues.
I must admit that my bar isn't big or has a lot of space. The bar's capability is twenty-five guests at max, with my own limit of hospitality at twenty. On this hour and on this particular day, I am already at my limit.
The bell above the entrance begins to ring and I see how my twenty-oneth customer enters the chatter-filled space that is my bar.
"One beer please," he orders, while he is sobbing through his own tears.
I am at my full capacity, but I can't wave him off. His stubble beard combined with the business suit is worrying me, so I will try to serve as best as I can.
He starts shedding tears, pulling all the attention to himself and while I am trying to calm him down by serving his beer, he is shouting his thoughts through the whole bar.
"The American Dream is a damn lie. It's a nightmare, an illusion, a piece of advice given to you by Lucifer, the devil himself!"
He has blown off steam and his crying is starting to calm him down.
"Do you know what happiness is?" he questions me and drinks his large beer pull empty in a single sip.
"It isn't money nor fame. It's a goal to live for and I just lost that purpose to motivate myself."
The business man immediately orders a second glass, this time it's a glass of wine. I am cautious when I serve it, because while the overall portions are starting to decrease, the alcohol percentage of his drinks are slowly rising.
"I was working my ass off to earn my current position in status and my saving account, however, my relationships were starting to crumble. I didn't notice it before it was too late. My wife had already submitted the divorce papers."
I don't know what I can say to ease the mood around him, so I have no choice than letting him proceeding with his vent.
"I did this work to ensure her of a life without worrying about the finances and now, she has left me, together with our son, for that very same reason. One whisky please!"
The glass becomes even smaller, while the alcohol is reaching the fifty percent.
His hands are starting to tremble slightly, his nerves are shooting the electric impulses in a rapid succesion to his hand.
With his body size, I am confident that he is targeting for the critical limit.
"Take this," I say to him and shove a big glass filled with a transparent liquid towards him.
"It's vodka, Russian vodka, the strongest brand that I have."
I know that this glass is three times the normal size of a vodka portion, but if he wants to leave this realm, then this will be the fastest way for him.
I am starting to feel uneasy, due to the abrupt silence that occured in the bar. With many shocked and disgusted eyes towards myself, the business man continues with his uncontrolable drinking habit by devouring the vodka in one go.
Aside from the forty eyes full of hatred towards myself, his face shines upon me with gratefulness and graditute, even in the core of his heart.
"Thanks," he states and starts walking to the front door, while having difficulties with keeping his balance.
"Good night everybody!" he shouts with a drunken smile on his face.
"Let's meet you again in Heaven, I will be waiting for you!"
After the man has left the bar, one of my regular guests starts scolding to me.
"That won't never happen, 'cause I will wish that you'll go to Hell!"
His usual grumpy expression is switched for one that was only filled with hatred, envy and distrust.
"I don't want to be associated with a sociopath, a servant of Satan!" he yells and decides to leave this place for good.
The rest of my guests are hesitating to do the same, but slowly when I show my face to them, they are making their own choices: They'll stay.
----
The next evening when the radio is on, I slowly and steady starts receiving rumours about the business man of yesterday.
A seat at the bar is free, the regular guest of that night kept his promise and never returned.
"Do you know what happened to that poor guy? He drank himself into the hospital," the police man at the bar tells me. The cop is off-duty and is enjoying his beverage.
"They said that if he has drunk three extra doses of alcohol, then it would result in his death. He's lucky, normally you would not survive such alcohol poisoning."
I must take something back, I can serve twenty-one at the same time. I am happy that I've pushed myself to serve him yesterday.
The large glass from the previous night, was in fact filled with water, which seemed to have saved his life.
Hopefully, I will meet him again, here on this beautiful planet Earth.