Meet Bucky

If you’ve ever visited (or slept over, only to emphasize the point) my lovely abode you know quite well that I live above 2 bars.  Having had the windows open for the last few months I’ve become overly familiar with Thursday karaoke night and always know where there is a touchdown/home run.  I’m also starting to recognize habitual voices.  One in particular I’ve named Bucky.  His voice is rather distinct.  I’ve never seen him, but am pretty sure he’s had a tracheotomy or three and continues to be an avid smoker. He’s always yelling.  Actually, add possible alcoholic to that list, seeing how sometimes I hear him to the left of the apartment, sometimes to the right–always beginning in the early afternoon and continuing late into the night.

I cannot help but wonder what his job is.  Or was, really.  He’s obviously putting in some extensive hours.

I would be totally weirded out if I ever met him.  But I don’t intend to go drinking downstair anytime soon…seeing how I know the crowd in those joints all too well.



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2 responses to “Meet Bucky

  1. slightlyignorant

    Wow, you must get really good stories from that bar – couple’s fights, people getting kicked out into the street, drunken men chasing after fleeing-rather-more-sober girls.
    I feel sorry for Bucky though :(.

  2. phampants

    my soc senses are tingling!

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