dmallord
Humble Hobbit
- Joined
- Jun 15, 2020
- Posts
- 4,652
I have a story pending approval. I placed it in humor although I was not sure it belongs there. I asked the moderator to place it elsewhere if they felt it more appropriate. Is that within the scope of their role?
What category would you have chosen?
The story is about a divorced cowboy type construction worker who's Ex takes him to the cleaners. Of course he goes to the bar for advice. He also meets a 'Fixer' who solves his problems and repays his Ex with street justice - even gets his dog back! The MC also 'fixes' the Fixer, e.g. they make love - she was kinda lonely too.
The story title is - Life Is a Bucket of Shit. The opening lines are below so you can get the feel of it.
The music was thumping out of that old jukebox in the corner, but nobody was dancing to my quarters. Who does that at 5:30 when the joint is half full or half empty; depending on how you look at it? Most guys in here are on their way home to a house full of kids and a flagging woman caught up with rug rat chores at the wind down of a long day. They just needed a mug of courage to make it all the way home. Me? Just chilling. Sitting on my favorite stool covered in sawdust and looking pretty much like a weary old man – ‘cept I’m not old; just weary. My best bartender had just wiped up some beer I spilt at MY end of the bar. The corner that still needed a sign saying, ‘Commiserating Corners – Open for Business.’ At least that was the one I thought about hanging up there today. Tomorrow, well that could be a different sign, but just now this one fits my mood just fine.
He heard me talking, in a deep conversation, with an empty mug. We was discussing about thinking how I needed to see a doctor. Larry, my personal bartender, chimed into my private conversation with my BFF beer mug. “For my two cents worth of advice, kid, people really don’t need a head shrink. Much of your life can be self-analyzed just by sitting on an ass-polished barstool for two hours a day. A few bucks and a few rounds for a few like-minded guys sitting there with you, really provides all the diagnosis required. You don’t have to pay for some psych doctor to tell you that life is like a bucket of shit.”
A Penny for your thoughts on the appropriate category. So I can retrieve it before it gets posted. Thanks in advance. dmallord
What category would you have chosen?
The story is about a divorced cowboy type construction worker who's Ex takes him to the cleaners. Of course he goes to the bar for advice. He also meets a 'Fixer' who solves his problems and repays his Ex with street justice - even gets his dog back! The MC also 'fixes' the Fixer, e.g. they make love - she was kinda lonely too.
The story title is - Life Is a Bucket of Shit. The opening lines are below so you can get the feel of it.
The music was thumping out of that old jukebox in the corner, but nobody was dancing to my quarters. Who does that at 5:30 when the joint is half full or half empty; depending on how you look at it? Most guys in here are on their way home to a house full of kids and a flagging woman caught up with rug rat chores at the wind down of a long day. They just needed a mug of courage to make it all the way home. Me? Just chilling. Sitting on my favorite stool covered in sawdust and looking pretty much like a weary old man – ‘cept I’m not old; just weary. My best bartender had just wiped up some beer I spilt at MY end of the bar. The corner that still needed a sign saying, ‘Commiserating Corners – Open for Business.’ At least that was the one I thought about hanging up there today. Tomorrow, well that could be a different sign, but just now this one fits my mood just fine.
He heard me talking, in a deep conversation, with an empty mug. We was discussing about thinking how I needed to see a doctor. Larry, my personal bartender, chimed into my private conversation with my BFF beer mug. “For my two cents worth of advice, kid, people really don’t need a head shrink. Much of your life can be self-analyzed just by sitting on an ass-polished barstool for two hours a day. A few bucks and a few rounds for a few like-minded guys sitting there with you, really provides all the diagnosis required. You don’t have to pay for some psych doctor to tell you that life is like a bucket of shit.”
A Penny for your thoughts on the appropriate category. So I can retrieve it before it gets posted. Thanks in advance. dmallord