On a Sunday morning when most people go to church, a select group gathers at the neighborhood bar. They gather not to start the day with a buzz but to make a connection. A connection with other individuals who give them joy and satisfaction.
The outside of the building is older and a bit rundown. Also, like those inside, it has not received the attention it needed. Paint fading, repairs were done to patch, overall, it needs a facelift, but there is no money for one.
At the far-left end of the bar sits the queen, who oversees all that goes on. Next to her is her prince and princess to facilitate and report to the prime minister. Along the rest of the bar sit thirsty souls looking for more than liquid refreshment. Some find, some don’t, all seem to encourage and find reason to go on into the next week.
The Neighborhood bar is attended by a hostess who struggles to fulfill the needs of her guests. Drinks in a certain size glass, play music to remember a departed, and conversation to help the guest feel special.
As the day wears on, guests come and go. Conversation stays friendly for the most part. Around noon, fifteen or so shows for the weekly pool tournament. They leave after their winner is crowned. As night falls and last call is announced.
The patrons will come and go other times during the week. But the faithful few will be back again next Sunday for more than their alcohol.
