The lights flickered off and on in three quick pulses. Already poorly lit, the bar was momentarily submerged into darkness before being illuminated again. An electric shivering sensation coursed over the body of the rundown dive. Through the breathing and muffled grunts of conversation, a lone voice overpowered the rest.
“LAST CALL” released from the bartender’s mouth in a tone equally mixed of anticipation and relief for the final thrust of bodies throwing themselves at him in an effort to order their ending drinks of the evening. The bar was packed tonight, the smell of sweat had become palatable as the wave surged onto the bar. Bodies tightly pressed together in a unified desire for the communal need to keep drinking. The throng of people reveling in their public display of Bacchus carnality, while clothed bodies intertwined in a beastly orgy of liquids and dancing. The pulsating masses crying out together in a great need to be heard by the lone man behind the bar.