Bruce stood in front of the buzzing neon sign in the window of Casey’s Tavern – the sign that says, All You Need is Love. No kidding, he thought. Breaking news.
Casey’s was their old hangout, the place where he and Leon first met. Bruce still dropped in there two or three nights a week, hoping to run into him, accidentally.
He sat at the bar, ordered a second beer, slid over a bowl of peanuts. It was always crowded on a Monday night. The Dolphins and Cowboys were on ESPN and there were obnoxious shouts and loud laughter from a couple of booths in the corner. Bruce wasn’t in the mood. He drained his glass and was ready to go home when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Hey, Bruce! Hey — long time no see, buddy”
Leon’s cousin. “Louie! How you doing, man?”
“I’m good. Yeah, really good. How come you’re not with Leon?”
“Leon’s gone, Louie. Left a couple months ago. He didn’t tell you?”
“No, I thought you two were still together. Why’d he leave?”
“Fuck if I know. Doesn’t matter. You want a beer? Hey, Hank — a couple of Coronas down here when you get a minute, please. Thanks.”
“You two were hanging out for … what? … over a year, must be?”
“Yeah, almost two.”
“So what happened?”
“I am not sure, tell you the truth. He just said it was time to leave, and boom — he was gone. It’s been tough.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve been tripping around like a fucking zombie for weeks.”
“Yeah … well.”
“Thing is, Louis, I don’t even know who I am when Leon’s not here. You know what I mean? Life without Leon? It’s just life without Leon.
“So is he coming back, or what?”
“Who knows? I doubt it. It’s all right. Our connection was sort of weird anyway. Shit, it was definitely weird. But, I thought we had it together. Turns out I was wrong.”
There was a sudden outburst of cheering and hooting as the Dolphins scored again. The woman next to him knocked over her margarita and apologized as it dribbled off the bar onto Bruce’s jeans. The two men sipped at their beers, neither speaking until the roar had subsided.
“Well, anyways, you want to see him or not?”
“Why are you asking me that? You know something I don’t know?”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, I want to see him. Hell, yeah.”
“Okay, good, I’ll go get him.”
“What?”
“The idiot’s been sitting out there in the parking lot wanting to come in for over half an hour.
“Fucking hell...”
🌿Leaves is recommending a brand new Substack called
. will post a couple more stories on Sunday. I hope you’ll have a look and make her feel welcome. Sharon says, “Gopher barbecues every Saturday — you catch ‘em, we’ll grill ‘em. ” (eeuw.)
Interesting. Didn’t the original version have Leon in the bar saying those lines?
OMG! It's a wonder we get together at all. Half an hour?????