Fat Guy Walks Into a Bar
Fat guy sits down. Rain is pouring, thunder is roaring, lightning is ocassionally crashing...into the roof...causing the roof to fall on said fat guy...and the freshly woken American girl sitting next to him. American girl gets up, shakes off the tile and dust, goes to the bar, and buys a pack of cigarettes. This was my morning - no joke.
I wish I could emphasize how truly weird it was to have the ceiling crash down upon me, but it defies description. Luckily, I'm not bloodied or scarred; the big pieces landed on my toast. I was just sort of stunned. This is not something that usually happens to me.
Post collapse, everyone in the bar was a little out of sorts. Apparently it doesn't happen to them often either. As the storm hadn't ceased, we all just moved to the other side, staring up at the hole and wondering how this was possible (It had something to do with a copper pipe and electricity - go figure). The water in the street kept rising.
Then the cockroaches started. Driven from their homes by the flood, they began crawling all over the bar in search of refuge. All they found was a band of disturbed tourists jumping up and down, squishing and squealing. Unable to resist the fun, a few rats wandered in from the deluge. Nobody was quite brave enough to squash the rats, so mostly they just screamed and stood on their chairs. I myself greatly prefer rats to cockroaches, but that's just me.
Time passed. It hailed occasionally, and then the rain slowed a bit. I was still sitting in the bar waiting for the rain to stop, when I noticed a black dog on the sidewalk outside. The dog was shaking his head wildly. The dog was killing and eating a rat. I lit another cigarette.
The sun began to emerge, and street vendors began pushing their carts through the street, which was filled with water that washed up on the sidewalk like waves. The carcasses of the fallen littered the bar; the staff, still trying to come to terms with the hole in the roof, hadn't quite gotten around to the roaches yet. A Canadian tourist told me she was going to take a bus down south to the beach today. Why bother? Another tourist walked out to survey the scene. The black dog shook dirty water all over him and ran off to chase another meal. I lit another cigarette, left the pack on the table, and went out to join the fun.
I wish I could emphasize how truly weird it was to have the ceiling crash down upon me, but it defies description. Luckily, I'm not bloodied or scarred; the big pieces landed on my toast. I was just sort of stunned. This is not something that usually happens to me.
Post collapse, everyone in the bar was a little out of sorts. Apparently it doesn't happen to them often either. As the storm hadn't ceased, we all just moved to the other side, staring up at the hole and wondering how this was possible (It had something to do with a copper pipe and electricity - go figure). The water in the street kept rising.
Then the cockroaches started. Driven from their homes by the flood, they began crawling all over the bar in search of refuge. All they found was a band of disturbed tourists jumping up and down, squishing and squealing. Unable to resist the fun, a few rats wandered in from the deluge. Nobody was quite brave enough to squash the rats, so mostly they just screamed and stood on their chairs. I myself greatly prefer rats to cockroaches, but that's just me.
Time passed. It hailed occasionally, and then the rain slowed a bit. I was still sitting in the bar waiting for the rain to stop, when I noticed a black dog on the sidewalk outside. The dog was shaking his head wildly. The dog was killing and eating a rat. I lit another cigarette.
The sun began to emerge, and street vendors began pushing their carts through the street, which was filled with water that washed up on the sidewalk like waves. The carcasses of the fallen littered the bar; the staff, still trying to come to terms with the hole in the roof, hadn't quite gotten around to the roaches yet. A Canadian tourist told me she was going to take a bus down south to the beach today. Why bother? Another tourist walked out to survey the scene. The black dog shook dirty water all over him and ran off to chase another meal. I lit another cigarette, left the pack on the table, and went out to join the fun.
posted by bethany at 01:14
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