Tonight made eight days that that same man came in, sat down, ordered enough whiskey to drown in, and just sobbed.
He went to the same booth, the one with the light that I always convinced myself that I never had the time to fix.
That booth became a haven for all of the low-lifes that came into this god-forsaken bar.
He was a buzzkill! It was starting to piss off the few people that had the distinction of being referred to as "regulars" around here.
I'm gonna talk to him, see if maybe I can get him to stop, at least. Oh wait! I recognize him now! He's that big shot math guy that works down at the university.
He was all over the local papers a little while back for how close he was to reaching some break through with his research..... god what was it called? Line theory? STRING THEORY! That's the one.
Those guys do that hardcore math trying to describe the universe with fancy math problems, right?
"What's the deal, buddy? You come in here every night and stink up the joint with your 'boo-hoos'. This is a bar, so there is a lot of complaining going on, but you're taking it too far.
" Wup, there he goes. Right for the door that one. Didn't even bother picking up all the precious papers he has been crying over all this time.
Pfft, what a nerd: I was expected to come here and find him crying over divorce papers or something, but the dork has been sitting here crying over a bunch of ONES and ZEROS.
Looks like some kind of computer code or something.