This is most true, I think for PJ's Pub a dive bar within walking distance of Old Campus. Since WLU is a dry campus, PJ's is sure to be crowded with students from 5pm on Friday night to 2am Sunday morning.
A trip there on a week night, however, yields a different result. The jukebox is usually playing country music, and most of the patron are older men who you'd be afraid to even glace at in the outside world.
They are a motley crew made up mostly of guys who work menial jobs around town, construction grunts, janitors, mechanics, and if your lucky those who work behind the scenes at WLU.
I wasn't feeling lucky as I walked inside last night. Not surprisingly Johnny Cash rose into the air and mixed with the sound of pool balls clacking lackadaisically against one another. There are maybe only 10 people there and I am the only student. I get a few looks, but once the see it's me the hostility leaves their eyes and turns to simple disinterest.
"Hey you." It's Crissy the ever present Bar Tender. She is younger than most of the patrons tonight. Her nails are painted pink today, but are already chipped from grabbing bottles and wiping down the grimy wood on the bar.
"Hey" I say and sit down. I have to squint in the dim light to make out the names on the bottles behind her.
"What can I get ya?" She asks absently and scratches a tiny stud in her nose. I order a jack and coke and she delivers. Deftly making a strong drink in one fluid motion.
"Thanks. Hey is Bill Martsen here?"
"Yep. Right over there." She points to the corner by the dart board. I start to walk away and she grabbes my arm.
"He's drunk Chris."
"I know."
"Don't start any trouble here, ok? You know how he gets."
I tell her I know and not to be worried. Bill Martsen is leaning against the dartboard now finishing off a pitcher of beer. He is a big man with broad shoulders and huge hairy arms covered in tattoos. I guess his age at about 37 but he looks a lot older. As far as I know he has been working on the campus facilities maintenance staff since he was 19 or 20. His brow knots up as I approach trying to figure out who I am. His dark eyes light up.
"Lewis! How fuck are you? You slummin' it tonight er' what?" He pats me on the back a little to hard.
"Yeah yeah. I know I have come in in a while."
"Two weeks" Crissy yells from the bar.
"Yeah I've been busy."
"With da Williams-Cohen thing eh?"
"Yeah."
"Helluva goddamn thing Lewis" He says and takes a swig out of the pitcher. "She really was a good kid. Her dad's a piece of fuckin' shit is you ask me. But Rose was a class act."
"Did you know her well?"
Bill grins and raises his eyebrows and points a thick finger in my face.
"I know that look in yer' eye Lewis. Yer flippin' into reporter mode aren't ya?"
"Sorry."
"No, it's ok, ok? Yor a natural and it's what you do. I didn't know her well really, but she was always nice to me. Never afraid to say hi when she saw me on campus fixin' somthin' or something. "
He takes another swig and smile again, belches and continues.
" Once her shower drain got clogged, right? So they call me out and she answers the door in a towel. Wooo jesus she was hot! A looker yep?"
"I guess."
"You guess my ass! You know it. Anyways I fix it up right for her and the next night, she bought me a drink and this very bar! Right in front of her friends too. See what I mean class act."
"Where you there the night of the fire?"
"No I was off that night. But one of the new guys on security was there. Burt? Bart? Bill? No, no that's me. Anyways he was there an' he said it was awful."
"Are you working on the room now."
"Ayup. You bet. Holy shit kid you should seen the place. All burnt out and shit. But it's almost done but you know how we work. Sloooooow."
"Do you know what caused the fire? How did it start? There hasn't been a report by the fire department yet."
"Yeah it's weird. Now I don't know nothing about fires, so's when I saw the fire inspector in there when we started working, I ask him if we need to rewire anything or what and he just blows me off. The fucker!"
"Really?"
"So later I make a call to see if something was wrong with the wiring or stove or gas or what, but they don't tell me jack. Then my Martin Garvey gives me shit and tells me to drop it! Everything's fine he says, but how hell does he know? There aint' no report?"
I was stunned.
"So the head of facilities and maintainence told you not to look into the cause of the fire?"
"You bet kid."
"Can I quote you on that? Anonymously of course."
"Well my good buddy, I may consider it for another pitcher of beer..."
"Bill that's unethical."
Bill just laughs and pats me on the back again. I call for a pitcher of Guinness.
By midnight the two pitchers were empty and I was drunk. I finish my lecture to Bill on why I am still a fan of the LA Dodgers and totter out the door. Before I leave I remember to ask him one more question.
"Bill."
"Wha?"
"Did you find anything in the room? Like drugs?"
"Drugs? Huh? She did drugs?"
"I don't know. I think she had some problems we didn't know about Bill. Did you find anything out of the ordinary?"
"I don't think so. Um we there all the shit that wasn't totally toasted in boxes and shoved them in a storage building on campus."
"What storage? Where? Do you have a key?"
"Whoa, whoa! Not so fast. No I don't remember which one sorry."
"That's okay Bill."
Wave goodbye to Crissy and stumble into the night. I walked back to Overton through the fog. The sky was clear though and the stars were out and the air was cold and crisp.
I woke up this morning with a hangover and find a scrap of paper in my drunken hand detailing the conversation in the bar with Bill. I am surprised I retained so much of the conversation. I before I head to class I underline a few phrases and make a few notes.
I I ought to go the bar a weeknights more often...
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