Who Are These People?

Sometimes I wonder the story behind someone whose path I cross. Last night, Shaun and I went out to get a drink or two. We wanted to go some place we hadn’t been before. We found a bar called Player’s (voted Madison’s Sleaziest Bar in 1992, or so showed a plaque on the wall) over in Schenk’s Corners. It had “Dive Tavern” written all over it. The Schenk/Atwood/Williamson neighborhoods have changed from skid row (Williamson) and blue collar (Schenk/Atwood) to highly desirable place to live in the last 25 or so years. This bar was a hold over of the blue-collar tavern.

The first person to make me wonder was some drunk guy. His drunk was the brain damage/heavily medicated by painkillers sort. The radio blared something about two guys being arrested for tampering with a packaged good since they goobered in a canned beer or something. Old Train Wreck looked straight at us and starting mumbling/slurring his diatribe about how those guys could have had aids, and that would be murder. It took him about five minutes to say that. Some girl he knew that was leaving grabbed his attention and he mumbled after her. Does this guy work in a factory job and head straight to the bar after work? Does he have any family around? Miller or Bud? Or Jack Daniels? Is he quiet when sober or does he sound the same, only slightly more intelligible?

The other person in question was a woman selling roses. You know the type; the one with the shallow basket draped over her elbow. Usually you see her on the Cruel All My Li.. I mean Valentine’s Day or on the lakefront of some fancy area. Nope, she was in Madison’s Sleaziest Bar 1992. Nobody, including us, bought a rose, but she was very polite and everyone was back to her. Shaun and I wondered if that was a needed job for her or if she does it for kicks. It wasn’t something she just decided to do five minutes before she showed up. She had her hair pulled back and was wearing a sleek black dress. She was in the bar all of three minutes. We wondered where she went next.

We left Madison’s Sleaziest Bar 1992 after one drink and headed over to Wonders Pub. I threw a riddle at Shaun, which he ended up getting right after a while, but in between questions, we wondered about the rose lady again. He said he wish he would have bought a rose but said he had no one to give it to. I said he should have bought one for her. He got upset that he didn’t think of that at the time and he remained fixated on it until we got home. Does anybody do that? Buy a rose from the vendor and give it to the vendor? Would she keep it for her own or just throw it back into the pile and sell it again? I think I’d like the one that would keep it for herself.