Genur.art

A man enters into a dimly lit bar room a single ray of light streams through the broken shades covering the window, it is mid-day and the bar room is quiet a patron sits on there own in the corner of the bar nursing his drink and smoking heavily. The bartender stands polishing glasses behind the bar a vacant expression upon his face working on years of instinct he places the glass on a shell picking up the next from a tray behind the bar, a neon light behind the bar flickers advertising a local light beer. A thick miasma of smoke hangs in the air it dissipates occasionally due to a slowly rotating ceiling fan. As the man walks to the bar his eyes adjust to the dim light, he looks around to see faded pictures on the walls of long gone celebrities and bric-a-brac from customers and local events. He takes another look at the bartender, he looks tired, maybe in his late thirties, sunken eyes, unshaved, scruffy. The bartender is wearing a white shirt with black waistcoat and blue jeans. tattoos peak from under the collar of his shirt, the bartender looks up at man as he approaches the bar recognition in his eyes a slight smile and a greeting as he place the glass on the bar and towel over his shoulder he ask what can I get you? The new customer responds "whiskey two fingers", The bartender reaches for a bottle on the top shelf, the customer interrupts and says "not the top shelf, rotgut will be fine".