The Devil

What if you met the Devil?

I sit at the bar sipping my bourbon over ice, smoking my cigarette, and contemplating the short balding man in the snazzy suit, that sat next to me.

 

He had sat down a few minutes earlier. I didn’t really know him but this was a friendly kind of bar, and although the place wasn’t even close to full the bar seating was limited, so I hadn’t thought too much about it.

 

When I signaled the bartender and he had insisted on buying me a drink I didn’t let that bother me either. I assumed he was bored and lonely and if buying me a drink emboldened him to talk I was cool with that too.

 

“Who would have imagined that we would meet here, face to face? You have no idea how lucky you are, so few people ever actually meet me, yet here I am, the Devil, at your service.”

 

‘Oh Great! Another frucking wack-job.’ I thought to myself. I twisted on my bar to look more directly at him. He didn’t look dangerous, and his eyes even held a spark of amusement, as if he and I were now on the inside of some joke, that only we got.

 

I decided to humor him.

 

“So, you’re a Devil?” I asked.

 

“Oh No. I am the Devil. There is only one, and I am he.” the little man responded.

 

I sipped at my drink again. I enjoyed the burn. I bided my time taking a moment. This was unusual but strange things happen all the time in little bars in the middle of the afternoon, and none of my alarm bars were going off.

 

At less than 5 foot 3 inches tall, and at least 50 pounds overweight, he was balding and wearing glasses, he looked more like a salesman that the master of evil, but what do I know? I thought to myself.

 

His suit looked like it had come from a buy one get the second one free sale, and his shoes looked scuffed and worn in the heel. He just didn’t look like a Devil or The Devil, and I decided to tell him so in as kind of a way as possible.

 

“See I don’t really believe in the Devil, I mean of course I’ve heard of him, or should I say ‘you’, but I was always taught he was more of a conceptual thing then a little fat, bald guy walking around kind of thing. I don’t even really believe in the concept, so I’m gonna have to call ‘bullshit’ on this one. No offense intended of course.”

 

He laughed as if I had just told him the funniest joke in the world.

 

“Oh none taken, you don’t have to believe in me anymore then I have to believe in you, I simply am and you simply are.” The Devil replied as he signaled ordering us another round of drinks The Devil was drinking Draft Bud Light, at 2 dollars a glass, and my shots of well bourbon were 3 dollars since it was 320 in the afternoon and Happy Hour, was in full swing. He paid the bartender with a single five dollar bill.

 

The bartender returned with our drinks and then drifted away.

 

“Should I have tipped the guy?” I asked the Devil, admiring his thrift.

 

“Oh the day is early and he will get his.” Responded the Devil as he took a swallow of his beer and daintily wiped the foam from his lips with a paper napkin.

 

“I do appreciate the drink, whoever you are, but this will be my last one as I need to get home.” I took a taste of my fresh drink.

 

The Devil smiled, and I smiled back.

 

“Would you like to know what I require from you?” The Devil asked with a grin as if he were joking.

 

“Well, I figured you wanted something. It’s not often a stranger sits down and buys me a drink, even if he is the Devil. However I’m just gonna be honest and tell you I don’t have much. I’ve been laid off and will most likely be evicted at the end of the month. Even just playing around I’ll not offer my soul, and if you’re looking to pick me up, I don’t swing that way, so I guess you’re s**t out of luck.

 

As I finished this speech the Devil was in mid swallow of his beer. He laughed into the glass slopping a little and then sit the glass down and bellowed laughter as if I had just said the funniest thing in the world, his laughter was contagious and I smiled in spite of myself.

 

“You, are a funny, funny, man.” The Devil said.

 

“Well what do you need?” I asked in a more serious tone. Finishing my drink and clinking the ice in the bottom of the glass.

 

“What did you say your name was?” asked the Devil.

 

“I didn’t tell you my name but you can call me Joe. And what should I call you?”

 

“Oh come on, you know my name, who doesn’t know the name of the Devil?” he answered.

 

“You don’t honestly expect me to call you Lucifer do you?” I said in a tone to lighten the mood a little.

 

With a snicker the Devil replied. “That would be a little awkward considering the circumstances so I suppose you can call me Lu.”

 

“Well Lu, in all seriousness, Thank you for the drink but I need to get.”

 

“Oh come on now. Let me tell you what I want and then you can tell me your answer and then we will go our separate ways.I mean that’s not too much to ask is it?”

 

“Oh all right Lu, I’ve got more time than money, but make your pitch.  What do you need?”

 

“OK. I need you to kill for me.” Lu whispered in the tone of a conspirator.

 

“And this is when the train pulled out of the station.” I proclaimed as I stood up to leave.

 

Lu reached out and placed his hand on my arm.

 

“Hey just a second.” He proclaimed.

 

I stopped and looked down at him.

 

“What the F**k? Come on man, what the hell are you talking about? You can’t just go around claiming to be the Devil, buying people drinks and then asking them to kill for you. Are you supposed to be on some kind of medication or something?”

 

“Just hear me out." said the Devil, as he raised his hand in a 'hold on a second' gesture.

 

I don’t know why but I stood and listened to him.

 

“I’m not asking to kill someone, just something, it doesn't even really matter what. You just kill something and then you will get money. It’s that simple.”

 

Part II

 

Having no idea why, my feet betrayed me and I re-took my seat next to the man I was sure was a complete lunatic.

 

The complete strangeness of the situation sinks in. I glance around the bar at the other patrons I wonder if I’m being pranked or if I’m on a twisted reality show. Is it possible I'm being set-up by the police? As I crane my head around looking for cameras or something to make this whole thing make a little more sense, Lu resumes speaking in his soothing half way joking tone.

 

“Take it easy Joe, you look like a fish out of water. This isn't a big deal and I probably presented it wrong. Look, you kill all the time, we all do. It’s part of the great order of things. If we didn't we simply couldn't exist, it’s like before you can build a city you have to cut down the forest and since you are already tearing the forest down you may as well sell the trees.”

 

“Lu, you’re deranged.” I answered in a hushed serious tone. “I have never killed anyone, and I never would kill anyone, not for any amount of money. I’m a fat, white, divorced, out of work, construction worker. That’s all I am. I’m not a killer, I don’t give two s***s about the order of things, and you’re not a Devil, or THE Devil. You’re just another fat guy in a cheap suit. You've had too much to drink. Hell, I may have had too much to drink, but either way, our time together is coming to a close, because you're too weird and you're freaking me the f**k out.”

 

Our conversation was interrupted as the barkeep set a basket of popcorn on the bar between us. Before, he could leave, on impulse, I decided I needed one more drink and slapped a 5 on the bar.

 

“One more drink, and another beer for Lu, and then I really have to go.” I said with resignation.

 

To emphasize this point I placed 3 singles on top of the five “This is for you.” I said, tipping the bartender.

 

“He scooped up the money and walked away muttering something about “Now I can finally visit Tahiti.”

 

We sat without talking, the music was turned up and I watched the room behind me in the mirror behind the bar. A few locals, office types, came in ordered their drinks, and were served, everyone received a basket of popcorn.

 

“I know you've never killed anyone, and I would never ask you to.” said Lu in a voice just loud enough for me to hear. “I could never ask you to kill anyone or anything, I just want to pay you when you do kill.”

 

Twisting on my bar stool I pointedly looked directly at Lu. “Enough of this hokus pokus bullshit!, I’ve heard enough. You are really getting creepy and you’re totally full of s**t. So just quit it, OK?”

 

“I’ll prove it to you.” He said in a voice of finality.

 

“What are you going to prove? That I’m a killer? That you’re the Devil, that there are things required for The Order Of Things?”

 

“None of that matters.” said Lu.

 

“Finally you are making sense, none of this matters.”

 

“All that matters is this.”  Replied Lu

As he said this he reached for another handful of popcorn, and as he did that a c**k-roach wandered across the bar. Without thinking I reached forward and flicked the vile creature from the bar onto the floor behind the bar.

 

The barkeep, who happened to be walking by stepped on the roach pulverizing it. I glanced and Lu and he grinned like the Cheshire cat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, from his wallet he extracted three crisp new hundred dollar bills.

 

“Here you go. Here’s your proof. You killed something, or did something that led to its death and I’m paying you 300 dollars.” as he said these words he slid the bills towards me.

 

“Now wait a minute! I never agreed to anything. I didn’t kill it on purpose. It was just a cockroach.”

 

I reached for the hundred dollar bills to slide them back to Lu. My fingers touched them and I slid them right back to him, except when I looked up he was gone.

 

In one second he was there, and in the next second he was gone. I’ve never been more stunned. I don’t know how long I stared at the money. Eventually the barkeep returned.

 

 

“Hey Buddy. You gonna have another round?” he asked.

 

“Did you see what happened to the guy who was just here?” I asked.

 

“What guy?”

 

“The guy who I’ve been sitting here drinking with for the last half hour or so.” I said with some exasperation in my voice.

 

“Look buddy, you’ve been sitting here alone as far as I’ve seen.”

 

I could see honest confusion in the bartender's eye. He was either telling the truth, or should be nominated for an academy award. Still I persevered.

 

“We’ve been sitting here drinking. I’ve been drinking bourbon on ice, and he’s been drinking Bud Light draft beer. We’ve been eating popcorn.” I looked around for his glass and was surprised to see it gone too, so was the popcorn.

 

“Look, do you need me to call you a cab or something? You’re a little confused. We don’t sell draft beer of any kind here, strictly bottles, and we don’t have popcorn. We’ve never had popcorn here, I ought to know, and this is my bar.”

 

“But, I don’t understand, he was just right here. Every table in this place has a basket of popcorn on it.” As I said this my eyes scanned every table in the place. There was no popcorn anywhere. I couldn’t even smell popcorn.

 

“I’m not going to have any trouble out of you am I?” asked the bartender.

 

His eyes, and the squaring of his shoulders, told me that he had decided I was either drunk or crazy, and either way I had worn my welcome out here.

 

“I think it would be best if you just went on home. It’s not even 5 o’clock yet, and it seems to me like you could use a nap or something.”

 

“Look, I’m just trying to tell you...”

 

The bartender cut me off and said, in a voice that sounded gritty like sand paper.

 

“Look a*****e, this is gonna go one of three ways. I’ll call you a taxi, and you can go outside and wait for it. Or I’m gonna bounce your a*s out of here and then you can wait outside for the cops, or you can just get up, and walk the f**k out of here, and we’ll forget this whole misunderstanding ever happened. What’s it gonna be?”

 

People were staring at us, and I could tell that I had already attracted more attention then I wanted.

 

Perhaps I imagined the whole thing, maybe I was cracking up. I stood and walked to the door. I felt almost 100% sober. Just damn confused. I could feel the attention of the crowd moving on to other things, and I was relieved at that.

 

‘That’s some weird s**t.’ I thought to myself as I crossed the threshold of the bar and blinked as my eyes adjusted to the evening sun. ‘I have obviously hallucinated this whole damn thing.’ I felt worried as anyone would, but I still felt good knowing it hadn't been real. The Devil, hadn't been real, the strange talk hadn't been real, the popcorn hadn't been real, and the cockroach hadn't been real. It had all just been some kind of crazy dream.’

 

As I was stepping off of the curb to cross over to my old truck the door to the bar opened again. The bartender walked briskly towards me.

 

“There you are.” said the bartender.

 

“You must be pretty fucked up to walk off and leave your money on the bar. Here take your three hundred bucks.”

 

Stunned I took the money that he held out.

 

“But it’s not mine.” I said to his back as he stormed back into the bar.