Christmas at Mel's

A Short-Short Story
(from the book, "Bits and Pieces", October 2011)
by CJ Heck

A broken neon sign flashed "Mel’s" atop a small darkened bar on the edge of town. The air was heavy with stale smoke and beer, blending faintly with the odor of dried spit on unclean bodies.

Sadie sat at a small table alone pondering the world and its problems, two drinks past actually seeing beyond the unkempt nails she drummed nervously on the chipped Formica in front of her. The lines in her face were knit as if by a palsied hand dropping stitches here and there where a pox scar decided to roost.

For Sadie, this was home -- at least until tonight’s john, with an empty glass and full libido, swaggered up and invited her to the nearest no-tell motel. Life sucks, but it was her life. Feeling in control, a spider in her web, she threw back another drink and waited.

The hours passed and Sadie now slumped in the chair at her favorite table at Mel's. With each drink, the world's problems faded further, until she was only mildly conscious that she had more than enough of her own. Merry Christmas. Yeah, yeah, so what? she asked indignantly into the air.

Sadie slowly counted the empty glasses lined up in front of her on the table. Seven. Nice. Rhymes with heaven. How 'bout that -- as if I'll ever be there.  They prob'ly don't let people like me in a ritzy place like that.  Sadie pushed the thought away.  She studied the half empty glass that was still in her hand with the same intensity a demented gypsy might, upon watching her favorite crystal ball suddenly deflate right before her eyes.

Tired, the lines in her face met in an intricate pattern just above her penciled brows as she pondered her situation through the booze fog. Damn Mel. Damn his twinkle lights. Damn things hurt my eyes. Fuckin' barkeep, why'd he have to put twinkle lights in here ... as if anyone wants to see the graffiti better, she cackled to herself.  Sadie watched as the room with its new holiday lights blinked, first red, then green, then yellow through the gently swirling smoke. She threw back the rest of her drink. It made her want to puke, that's what it did.

Who the hell cares if it's Christmas Eve? Every day's the same to me, she thought. I'm just a workin' woman tryin' to make a buck. Bad enough, everywhere you go, bells are ringin' on every corner, music blastin' outta radios, snow and slush in every step you take, and all that fancy decoratin' to remind you, you're fuckin' alone.  Merry Christmas ... yeah, Mer-ry Christ-my-ass!  Cash registers are ringin' big time, too, Sadie thought, with a bitter smile.

Damn, business was slow this time of year. Every john she knew was prob'ly home playing Santy Claus with the kiddies and Husband Of The Year with the wife. What a joke, she thought.  What they really want, I give 'em.  What they really need, I give 'em. They're all the same. What a fuckin' joke, she thought ... yeah, only the joke's on me.  I'm the one who's sittin' and waitin' in a blinkin-stinkin' hellhole all by m'self.

Sadie set empty glass number eight at the end of the line on the table and raised a finger at the barkeep for another drink. Waiting was a bitch ... just then, a shadow fell through the swirling smoke to settle eerily on Sadie's table. It was strangely blinking in mixed colors through the empty glasses in front of her. Surprised, she looked up to see one of her regulars standing there. Finally, she thought to herself, and 'bout time, too. Already a plan had formed in her mind to do him fast and then get some shut-eye. She gave the john her best crimson smile.

The man leaned down and handed Sadie a folded bill. With a sad smile he said, "Go home, Sadie. This one's on me, and ... and well, M-Merry Christmas to you." Then he turned and walked back through the swirled and blinking smoke to the door and back out to the street with Sadie staring slack-jawed at the door closing slowly behind him.

Damn, if that don't beat all, Sadie thought, as she unfolded the fifty dollar bill. Then she scooted her chair back, pushed herself away from the table, and for the first time in years, Sadie's face softened into a genuine smile.


How beautiful a day can be when kindness touches it. ~George Elliston