A Man Walks Into A Bar

Scene

Exterior: over there

The lone figure walks down the streets of this lonesome, sprawling city. His larger than average head topped with a worn, grey cowboy hat that doesn't fit with his t-shirt, khaki shorts and sandals. They show of what muscles he has, which isn't much, and give a glimpse of pearly white skin underneath.

He reaches into a bulging pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. A cheap brand for a cheap man. Pulling one out, he lights it with a yellow Bic lighter that's on it's last legs. He'll have to remember to grab a new one the next time he's in a store.

As he walks down the street, taking a long, relaxing drag on a cigarette, his phone vibrates. It's her again. Asking him where he is. Is he on his way. A short response is all that is warranted.

"Almost thre" he mistypes. She'll get the idea. She could have just looked at his location information, but that would take less effort than texting so of course she wouldn't.

As he walks he looks off into the distance and sees the glowing sign of his destination. Jailbird bar. It's not fancy and gets the sort of clientele that you'd expect from a place with that name. He's never been to jail, but some of the friends he is meeting have.

It's a strange bar. Who would have thought a jail themed bar would be popular? Steel bars surround the outside walls and doors. Inside is concrete with barren and utilitarian furniture. He hates it, but he didn't get a say where they were hanging out tonight. And at least the drinks were cheap.

As he approaches the front door, it opens as someone is leaving. And with that, this story meets it's climax. It is here that our protagonist changes from a man, to something else. As he tries to squeeze by he walks into one of the facade bars on the bar.

Ouch.

He's a punchline. Could his life get any worse?