Writin' Time

I've wanted to write, and write more, for a long time now. The block has been huge for some reason, and although I've had ample time and space to write, I just have never gotten started. Hopefully that ends today. What usually ends up stopping me is myself, and editing every little thing along the way until writing is no longer fun. I'd like to be able to just write anything and let it land where it may, but I know it'll be a struggle.

"You really think you'll be something one day?" the man behind the bar asks.

"Definitely," the young musician answers.

The musician finishes coiling the cord around his amp and gives a quick look around the impromptu stage setup in the back of McNaulty's Pub & Eatery. The stage is large enough for him, his guitar, and his friend and accompanying violist, Tessa. If he wants to add anymore band members, he will need to find a new place to play.

"Yeah? Why's that?" asks the bartender.

The musician turns to the bartender, but doesn't answer.

"How come you think you'll hit it big?" says the bartender.

"Well now, Sid," responds the musician, "that isn't the same question you asked earlier. I don't know about hitting it big, I imagine that might happen as well, but to your prior question about 'being something', well, I reckon I'm something right now, and I plan on continuing my being into one day."

The bartender stops counting his tips and stares at the musician.

"You're full of shit," the bartender says.

The musician flashes a smile at the bartender as a car's horn is heard from the propped back door.

"Well," the musician says and he pushes away from the bar and retrieves his guitar and amp, "it sounds like Tessa is ready to go. Tonight was a pleasure, like always, Sid."

"Don't forget to wash that shit-eating grin, you no-talent hack. Now Tessa, that girl has some talent. You're a lucky sonofabitch!"

The musician waves the guitar case as he leaves McNaulty's, kicking the door stop back inside as he makes his exit.

---

"You were great tonight, baby!" the musician says as he hops into the passenger seat of Tessa's white 1995 Toyota Corolla station wagon.

"I'm tired," she says.

"Oh, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink with Mike and Gabe, they invited us to come and join them over at the Wild Rover."

Tessa sighs.

"What?" the musician asks.

"You know I have work tomorrow morning."

"Just one drink?"

"One drink," Tessa says as she shakes her head sideways, "yeah, right."

"I promise."

"I'm tired, and I want to go home. I can drop you off on the way home," Tessa says.