The Prospects Are Good

The bar maid was wiping down the counter at closing time as the barman announced that it was time to finish up any drinks still being sipped at in the next fifteen minutes before he booted them out the door. There were weak protests heard from all around as all the drunk ladies and gents helped each other up and downed the last of their drinks before sauntering for the door. All in the closest thing to single file they could manage shuffled out the door. Some groaning and complaining while others were singing merrily as they went.

"This place ain't never seen a crowd as the likes of what we 'ad tonight, eh?" Mused the barman.

"Ain't that the truth," replied the bar maid as she went to collect all the stray glasses, goblets and pints sitting around the place. She brought them to the counter on a couple large trays and the barman placed them in the sink full of sudsy water where he took a cloth to them. The bar maid joined him and dried what he washed putting them away neatly afterward.

"I'll be hoping for another full house like the one we 'ad for the near future. Times are rough nows a days, ain't they? Like we be the only folk in town that the low on their luck lads come to. Nows with the regicide and war havin' ruined us 'n all. Every poor sod left is coming from far an' wide for a pint and a bit of good cheer, ain't they?" The barman thought out loud.

"Ain't that the truth," The bar maid replied again.

"How's they say the king was killed again? Poisoned was 'e? Or was it an arrow right through the 'ead? I think 'e was poisoned. Was his father what was killed with an arrow between the the eyes, weren't 'e?"

The bar maid nodded as she continued drying and putting things away.

"Soon we'll be seein' more ruined royalty down 'ere with us commoners findin' we's the only ones in town who won't turn 'em away if it means business from 'em. The 'igher ups are droppin' like flies with the new prince in charge an' all. What with 'is bad temper I 'ear of. 'Eard 'e has 'is best guard beheaded cuz' he was seducin' a chamber maid the Prince fancied. Been seein' a lot of deserters from the castle comin' 'ere before fleein' to the neighborin' countries, we 'ave."

"Ain't that the truth," the bar maid replied again in the same manner.

The barman finally finished washing the last of the pints and the bar maid dried and stored it away.

For a moment all was quiet.

"Well, as much as I 'ate to be sayin' it, through all this disaster seems people's takin' a heavier likin' to alcohol, an' to bein' too drunk to remember their cares in the first place. Seems to me that in these times our prospects are good, eh?"

"Ain't that the truth," the bar maid said once more as she stood at the bottom of the stair case leading to the bedroom beyond. "Shall we be gettin' some rest then m'dear?" She added.

"Ah, that we shall luv. That we shall."

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Little thing inspired greatly by Glass Dragons. I really wanted to experiment with the old talk and just paint a picture of a tavern bar you might find in old Europe. I had a lot of fun writing this, and to be honest its based a bit on something my parents once said about the economic crisis. The liquor and wine business didn't suffer much from the blow, if anything people's drinking habits became more pronounced. I must admit that I am smiling at the thought.