Bill said, “Hey! Another beer over here!”
The bartender, June, walked to the center and leaned toward Bill.
“What?”
“Beer! Anchor Steam!”
The incessant thumping resonated in their heads as Bill looked on eagerly and then around at the bar patrons. June poured the beer.
“Four dollars.”
Bill bared his front teeth and removed a five dollar bill from his pocket. He handed the money to June and she in turn pulled a one dollar bill from her apron. She gave Bill the money and he smiled, then left it on the bar.
He bobbed his head, getting into the rhythm, feeling the beat, and turned back toward her.
“Haven’t seen you before.”
June paused and smiled.
“I’m always here.”
Bill closed one eye but did not open it until several seconds later.
“I would’ve noticed.”
June watched him stagger closer to the bar. Her smile faded away.
“Something else?” she asked.
“Yea,” he said. “Tell me something so I can remember you.”
She placed her hands on the counter and leaned in again, closer than before. Bill hesitated to look into her eyes and instead scratched the back of his head and sipped his beer.
She said, “I’ve got nothing interesting to say.”
“Make something up.”
June paused and thought for a moment.
“I find you very attractive, and want to fuck you in the bathroom as soon as my shift is up.”
Bill furrowed his brows and drank from his glass again, then tipped his glass toward her.
“I’ll remember you.”
June sighed and then walked to the couple waiting for her near the tap.
Bill slept on the carpet of his living room that night and dreamt of June swimming in a glass of beer, wearing the t-shirt, jeans, and apron she’d worn that night. Her eyes were glistening like two great green marbles floating in the clear and golden ocean. Bill knew he wanted to get to her but found the glass of beer impenetrable. He circled around the glass of beer, searching, pleading for a means to get to her, and as if blessed by God a ladder descended from the sky that was just tall enough to reach the top of the glass. He climbed hurriedly and hooked his forearms over the top of the glass where he could feel the froth of the cold beer wash over them. When he dunked his head and shoulders inside Bill felt an immediate sense of relief and his ache for June subsided. He plunged himself in and floated along the top of the beer, swallowing with every other breath, forgetting everything and not caring that he was dying, dying, dead.