Did I ever tell you about Bartholomew? Did I ever tell you about good old Bart? Back when I used to go to the corner bar, you know the one on East St. Peter? He'd always sit off to himself in one of the back booths, usually the one with the flickering light overhead. From afar, from the door maybe, Bart seemed like any other lonely loner at the bar. Up close though...there was something in the air around his booth, a scent sweet like honey and yet spicy like New Orleans in the Fall. He looked like a cross between a washed-up punk waiting for a revolution and a businessman with tremendous style. He'd wear rip torn jeans with ratty converse with fitted shirts with a tie or a silk cravat. His hair was spiky and sometimes dyed reddish-blue.
The first night we met, I thought he looked like a guy that could use some company so I came over to his booth and asked,"Mind if I-"
Before I could finish he cut me off with, "Its about time! I've been waiting all evening. Now are you going to have your usual or something different tonight?"
"Huh..buh...Excuse me, I...we haven't met before, I think you have me confused.", I tried, sure that this man was clearly crazy.
"No, no, no. You're Mark, yes?", I admitted that I was, "Good, I'm Bartholomew, better known as Bart, but never Barth. Now, your usual?"
"Sure", I submitted, realizing at this point I was out of my depth. Was he crazy or was I? Did I have amnesia? No that couldn't be. But that was the effect Bart had on people, he made you think that you were the crazy one.
My "usual" turned out to be a very red drink topped with white foam. I asked him what it was exactly, to which he replied cheerfully, "Red beer! Have a sip!" It was delicious, and beer-like, and red-like. Of course it was "red beer", what else could it have been?
After taking the sip Bart looked up at me and said just this: "Wednesdays, Fridays and Sunday afternoons"
"Your favourite days of the week?"
"That's when I'll be here"
***
Sunday afternoons turned out to be Karaoke, which I wouldn't have expected Bart to be a fan of. I learned that he sang every week, either "Let's Dance" by David Bowie or "Brown Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison. One Sunday I came in, but didn't see him yet, so I wrote him into the queue and walked into the bathroom where I found Bart contemplating the mirror. He said, "You know, I don't believe in reflections. I believe its just an alternate dimension lining up perfectly." Bart paused staring at himself in the dirty mirror then lapsed back into speech after a moment, "I think if I wait long enough, he might leave before I do, but the chances of that happening are very, very slim."
I told him it was his turn to sing in a moment. He looked at me as if just realizing I was there. "Oh...oh." He left, but for about half a second maybe, his reflection didn't. I swear that's what I saw anyway.
***
One evening we were sitting at the booth, me with a red beer, him with his scotch and cigarillo when he said, "Einstein almost got it right, but not quite."
"With what?"
"His famous theory of relativity. He was close, but he missed the bit about ghosts."
Bart looked as if he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject so I let it go at that, but I was definitely scratching my head through the next few days.
***
I tried bringing a few of my friends around to meet Bart after describing him to them. They would say, "Mark, this guy can't be as strange as you're making him sound." And then I would introduce them and without fail a few things would happen: a) Bart would be closer to normal than usual, a little eccentric perhaps but normal and always a perfect gentleman. b) Though he would start some stories at the middle instead of the beginning he always seemed much more lucid than usual. c) my friends would always leave the bar with me commenting, "Bart was wonderful! I don't know why you didn't bring us around sooner!" d) a few days later they would call me on the phone saying, "You might be right...something was off the other night. But I can't quite place my finger on what.."
And I think the biggest thing that was off in those encounters with Bart was that he wasn't being himself. They got this dialed down version, this other version of a person that they had only heard stories about and their subconscious probably catches it. I mean if you've ever had a friend acting any way other than natural, you know right away. Though if you aren't as close to that person it might take some time to realize that person was wearing a facade at that particular time.
***
Or there was the time I joined him at the booth and he was surrounded by a thicker than usual cloud of smoke. I asked what he was up to, he said, "Trying to blow the perfect smoke ring and then replicate it enough times intertwining to create a smoke sphere."
I liked the idea of it even if it didn't seem entirely possible. I asked him how his progress was so far, he replied, "Not too well, but I'm having a hell of a time. I feel like Edison or maybe Tesla on the verge of a discovery." We sat for awhile like that, him blowing ring after ring and me drinking a red beer. The thing was, Bart actually was making progress with the crazy idea, he managed to link 4 rings of smoke before he ran out of breath and the first ring lost its shape.
When he regained his breath he put his cigarette in the ash tray to take a break and looked at me with red tinged eyes from all the smoke. After considering for a moment he asked, "Have you seen that new billboard out on highway 34?"
"No, is for a new restaurant?"
Bart looked a bit disappointed that I hadn't seen, "No nothing like that......They're asking about time travel....."
"Who's asking about time travel?"
"I don't know, but I want to find out..."
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Ladies and Gentlemen, this marks my 300th blogpost, thank you very much for reading. Rock on!
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