Anonymous confessions of a bartender

“He was a young gay guy, no more than 25, dressed like a hipster. The bar I work in used to be a gay bar, and we get a lot of leftovers from the old bar. It was a dead night, so there wasn’t much of a job to do. I was lounging on a comfy chair while a friend played records to the two other customers in the building. The young guy was already pretty drunk, asking when more people were going to come and telling me how to do my job. He and the guy he came with were both arrogant and kept bothering about ‘having a night’ at the bar.

“Then he started telling me this story, about how when the bar was under the old name he got a blowjob on Valentine’s Day. He was younger then, and had been brought there by an older man. Back then the bar was so dark that this sort of thing went on and people didn’t seem to care—many people were doing the same thing. He then pointed directly at me, right to the comfy chair I was sitting on and said, ‘That’s the spot. I was young, I didn’t know what to do.’ I’m more careful with where I sit now.”