The Lonely Hearts Bar. Конни Гранма

David, a bottle of whiskey, and a glass of ice – pretty much the perfect alcohol ad.

      «Excuse me sir, you wouldn’t have seen David Ogden by any chance?» I asked, flashing a smile.

      David woke up from his reverie and slowly lifted his empty gaze.

      «Damn it’s good to see you!»

      «What happened?»

      It was hard to believe, but tears streaked down his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands:

      «Goddammit… this sucks!»

      «David, what happened?»

      «I feel like shit.» He lowered his hands and chuckled, then pressed the glass of ice to his forehead. «I wish my fucking head with all these memories would just get run over by a sixteen-wheeler.»

      «Not exactly the best way to deal with your thoughts.»

      «I know, I get it. Don’t want to lose the old noggin either.»

      He gazed at me and then looked away.

      «Sorry Connie.»

      «For what?»

      «For all this. For… for everything!»

      «What’s so terrible that you want to forget?»

      «My childhood… My whole body is covered in, like, scars. They hurt like a bitch as soon as I remember something. All that violence and loneliness… all those attempts to protect my mother from her man friends and the names the neighbors called her. These friends of hers… the last one actually forced her to get rid of me. Well, at least I think she wouldn’t have done it by choice.» He looked at me. «Right?»

      «You shouldn’t look for excuses. It won’t help you deal with the past. And it might even hurt you in the future.»

      «You’re right. She left me on my birthday, like I told you. She… she said that we were going on a picnic, that there’d be rides and stuff. I, little moron that I was, obviously believed her. Basically, she got there and filled out some forms, some other stuff… and then just left. I ran after her, begging her not to leave me. And that was it. She threw my toy superman out the window of her car. I’d made him out of gum wrappers, and I buried him that day in the yard at the center.»

      David poured himself more whiskey, barely holding the bottle in his hands, and took a couple sips.

      «I lived in fear, scared of everything. She left in the morning and came home drunk, every time with some new knight in shining armor, I mean… one more psycho who’d give her a shiner a couple days after they’d met. Sometimes they used me to make money, selling mary jane or blow… But I don’t blame her. I think she was afraid of them, her man friends, that’s why she didn’t say anything. She was afraid they might kill us both.»

      He finished off his whiskey and gestured to the waiter for more.

      «It won’t help,» I said.

      «Pfff,» he waved dismissively, «I don’t give a shit.»

      «About what?»

      «About stupid fucking money, money, money.»

      I laid my hand on his and felt him flinch.

      «It’s ok, alright?» I said.

      David froze, gazing into my eyes.

      «Alright,» he finally replied.

      Meanwhile, the waiter brought his whiskey.

      «Guess it’s time to stop. Take it away, maestro!» David winked at me and threw his money on the table. «If it wasn’t for you, I’d have kept drinking until I passed out, then sat in the dirt by some trash can until Lee found me.»

      We left that place, which, despite its attractive appearance, suddenly felt full of despair. Just like how the Renaissance must have felt.

      «Connie, I’m gonna walk,» said David.

      «No way! I can’t leave you in that state. I’ll drop you off.»

      «I’m as sober as a judge!»

      «Yes, your honor, but I’m still driving you home. You wouldn’t even make it halfway!»

      David followed me to the car and slipped. I slowly turned and sighed deeply when I saw him lying in the trash from an overturned bin.

      «Well this got interesting fast…» I breathed.

      For about five minutes, I tried to hoist him up, tugging at his arms. Finally, I succeeded. Propping him up, I slowly made my way to the car.

      «Sorry Connie,» he mumbled.

      «David?»

      «Hm?»

      «You alright?»

      «You have no idea how good I feel!»

      Despite my less-than-stellar mood, David’s muttering made me smile. It was like I was back at my old job, saving people’s lives. Except just when I got to the car, there was yet another problem: how was I going to open the door without dropping David?

      «David, can you try to stand up?»

      «M-hm.»

      «You sure?»

      «M-hm.»

      «Actually, no. Try opening the door.»

      He reached out for the door handle, and even had the strength to open the door.

      «Fantastic,» I said, and carefully got him into the car.

      Problem Number Two: where does he live? I started the car, opened the window and splashed water on his face.

      «David?»

      «Mmm?»

      «Where do you live?»

      «In a small room.»

      «What’s your address?»

      «Just go straight, then turn, then left at the light, then straight until the big flashing store, then left again, then along the shore, all the way to the end, until you hit the boardwalk. There’s a small alley there… it’s not pretty.»

      «A small alley. Not pretty,» I repeated, and tried to get my bearings.

      Anyway, after a half an hour I located that small alley, which genuinely wasn’t pretty. By then, David had somehow managed to sober up almost completely. He stared out the window, thinking about something.

      «There it is.» He pointed to a rusty staircase.

      «Wow, you live on Elm Street.»

      «Worse. Here, they don’t wait till you’re asleep to kill you.»

      «Jesus…»

      «I’m joking!» He laughed, then groaned.

      «Are you ok?»

      «Yep. All good. I… I dunno how to say sorry.»

      «Just get out of here before I smack you.»

      «Thanks for not smacking me.»

      «Any time.»

      And now it was back again, home, to an empty apartment. Just me, stillness and solitude. There was something else there, something as cold as the water from my shower.

      I sat down on the windowsill and decided to read a couple pages of my favorite book, The Catcher in the Rye, before going to sleep. Holden, I completely get you…

      My alarm went off at 6:17am. Breakfast, as usual, consisted of Starbucks to-go and a croissant, after which I ran by the laundromat and picked up the coat I’d spilled maple syrup all over a couple days earlier. I also decided to pay an old friend a visit, even though we’d never met in person before. We’d gotten in touch on the website of a bookstore where he worked. I’d frequently ordered books in order to prepare for my courses. As it so happened, I’d been driving right by his store every morning but only noticed it today.

      A tall young man with dark hair was arranging books on a shelf. He was wearing a white T-shirt,