From the outside the bar looked a bit of a dive, peeling paint on the outside exposing crumbling brickwork underneath. A neon red sign flashed intermittently above the door spelling out “Be r”. Certainly no evidence of a salubrious establishment here, V thought, but entered anyway, the prospect of a rubble drawing him in.
He stepped through the drab portal, and found to his surprise a clean and tidy establishment inside. Gleaming brass twinkled all round him, including the bar top itself which sparkled in the soft ambient lighting. Glancing around he saw perhaps the most diverse crowd of people he had ever seen, with almost all backgrounds being represented.
Seeing no pumps on the bar, he doubted they served his preferred tipple, a cool pint of ale, yet he approached the bar anyway hoping for a bottle at the least.
“What can I get you sir?” The barman asked, proffering a pint glass in V’s direction.
V stared pointedly at the lack of pumps on the bar, and noticed there were no bottle fridges either.
“How about a pint of ale sir?” The barman prompted again gesturing with the empty pint glass.
V nodded his acceptance, a bemused expression crossing his face.
The barman turned his back to V, and after some secretive motions returned with a brimming pint of dark ale.
It wasn’t often that V was surprised but this was certainly a pleasant one, as the scents wafting from the pint pot suggested this was a pint of his favourite ale, Theakstons Old Peculier. The first sip confirmed his suspicions and soon he was passing the empty glass back for a refill.
The barman silently responded to the request, turning his back again. V tried to see round him to ascertain how this miracle was performed but could make out nothing.
“How do you do that?” He asked as the barman passed the full pint back to him.
The barman shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t ask me.”
He said as he made some strange motions over the glass. “I just do this over the glass and say the words and the beer appears. You’ll have to ask the landlord if you want to know more, he ‘s the brains of this operation.”
This only served to intrigue V more. As he enjoyed the rich taste of his second pint he pondered the situation before asking more of the barman.
“How did you know this was my favourite?”
“I don’t as such, but the words serve to make whatever is wanted, I just hold the glass there.”
V asked no more, sensing that this was the limit of the barman’s knowledge and as he settled down to enjoy the pint he mused on this strange place, thankful that he had found it.
A piece of flash fiction Inspired by today’s Daily Prompt Think Again | The Daily Post.