Arnold’s Bar and Girll (unfinished , but edited!)

Arnold’s Bar and Girll (unfinished)
By Straycat
Edited by Holly Logan

Disclaimer: Certain persona's described herein may sound incredibly familiar, and in certain cases that was done on purpose ... mainly because of lack of imagination on my part. I apologize ahead of time if any person is offended by what might seem to by a reflection of themselves. I'll get around to finishing this Later.

--
Bobby Hester needed a beer. It’d been a great day at work, and another deal was done and under his belt. Yes, this was a good day for Bobby. He felt so good he had decided to walk to his apartment from the office, but he was beginning to think he’d made a wrong turn as the streets didn’t look the same as from the back of his usual cab.

He spied a sign with the traditional bunch of grapes on it.

‘Ah, an Irish Bar, that’ll work for a brewski.’ He thought with a smile on his face. Looking up at the sign he saw its faded letters proclaimed “Arnold’s Bar and Girll”

The typo made him chuckle, as he walked down the steps and opened the door, then stopped, perplexed. Instead of a bar he was in a short hallway to another door that also proclaimed “Arnold’s Bar and Girll.” Under that was a hand written note: “Really, this time! :-D” smiley and all.

He strode forward and opened the next door with a whimsical smile of anticipation. He’d taken about 6 steps into the bar when he began to notice something … different about it.

There was the usual old jukebox muttering music in the corner, the pool table with it’s lamp hanging on chains, a couple of small private booth-like tables, and a Big Friendly, Smiling Irishman behind the bar polishing a glass with his apron.

It was the clientele that was different. He expected mostly males, it WAS an Irish bar after all, so that wasn’t it.
No, there! He put his finger on it. Most of the guys were wearing dresses. Not Scottish Kilts, dresses, frilly dresses that only women wear, at least in public. One had a pink sundress with strappy high heels, another had a ‘Hello Kitty’ purse.

“Get you a beer there friend?” the bartender ventured, glass now as clean as it would get.

“I’m not really sure if …”

The bartender smiled. “It’s okay, friend. We get ‘normals’ in here every so often, and I keep a selection of regular just for you guys.” He drew a pint of stout by the color of it, placing it on the bar as Bobby took a seat at a vacant space a seat or two away from either of the ‘couples’ that were chatting to the sides of him.

He took a tentative sip, but it was good beer so he took a pull. “I didn’t realize this was a gay bar…”

“It’s not. Take a closer look, friend. There’s no tonsil-hockey going on. There’s no spit-swapping. Just friends and like minded individuals meeting for an exchange of ideas and a drink.”

“Like what?” he looked about, but other than the effeminate clothing he couldn’t see a pattern.

“Look closer,” the bartender’s voice said softly, close to his ear. “See the guy with the glasses, looks a bit like Elvis Costello? That’s Rebecca. She’s a wonderful writer and a good friend to all who know her.”

“Her?!” Bobby asked, somewhat started.

“Yes, Her. Everyone here has a story. See the girl she’s talking to? That’s Elaine, the one with the Kait Marksbury look.”

“Kate who?”

“Kait Marksbury, haven’t you ever read Erinyes? It’s in the comics section of the newspaper?”

“Well, I mean, I read Hagar, Marmaduke, and Wizard of ID, usually.”

“Try Erinyes next time … and Garfield, can’t forget the old fur-ball. Anyway, Elaine there always wanted a daughter… and almost did.”

“Uh, why not?”

“The kid had blue eyes.” Seeing perplexed look the bartender continued. “No one has had blue eyes in Elaine’s family for over two hundred years, I know, I’ve seen the paperwork.”

Bobby just shrugged not getting it, but trying to keep up.

“The one sitting alone in the private booth is Maggie. She’s having a pretty rough time in life right now. She comes here for the friendly environment, but hardly talks to people anymore. We keep hoping she’ll talk, but … In her own time.”

Booby took another pull off his beer. It was … well, it was really freaking odd, but compelling somehow.

“There’s Simone.” The bartender shuddered slightly before continuing. “Simone is Zee Arteest! Of the group. Very talented, just odder than most.”

“Who’s the Fur?”

“Good eye, that’s Stray. He comes in here because he enjoys people as weird as he is.”

“I thought … well, everyone else is a ‘she’ here. I kinda thought …”

“That doesn’t apply to Stray. He’s a borderline Fur, and borderline T-Girl. And borderline other things. I don’t think there is a pshrink that could figure out what all is wrong with Stray without Stray getting into their heads deeper then they get into his. He’s really smart, but he isn't very good with ‘normals’ … hell, or other people for that matter.”

“That’s Stella there talking with Babs. And others that I’ll let you learn on your own.” The bartender said this with a knowing smile on his face.

Bobby was confused and turned back with an inquiry on his lips.

“We get three kinds of people in here, beyond the regulars that is: the first are the ‘Normals’ that think at first glance this is a gay bar, who hightail it right back out of here. The Second are the gay’s that think this is a gay bar, and are disappointed, and mostly don’t return either …” he smiled wider “And the third group is like you. Border-liners that are not sure, who keep coming back till they decide to take the plunge … Then they come here to stay.”

“Whoa! I’m not weird like that!” he pointed to the room full of, in his mind, crossdressing men.

“Maybe not, but maybe you are. Have you ever felt out of place? Like you didn’t fit into your life? It’s kinda like having your shoes on the wrong feet and not knowing any better… then one day you get them on the right feet, and everything just makes sense.” He saw Bobby look off to the far wall, which was mostly blank, so the bartender knew that he was thinking.

“So, who’s the new girl?” Elaine asked pulling her wallet out of the cargo pocket on her camos.

The bartender proffered her usual drink and took the money. “This is Bobby. He stopped in for a beer, and I was giving him the quick tour.”

“Hi Bobbie, Ah’m Elaine. Pleasure to meet yah!” She took his hand and gave a firm handshake.

“Um, yeah. It’s Bobby, with a ‘Y’ not an “IE’. As in Robert.”

Elaine arched an eyebrow at the bartender who nodded. then she smiled, “S’ok, s’pleasure, anyway. Ah always enjoy meeting new peoples.” And she was off again, leaving Rebecca to get her own drink. After a few short exchanged words and a look in that general direction Rebecca stood and walked to the bar … she was surprisingly agile in those heels.

The bartender had her drink waiting for her as well. “On Elaine’s tab … as usual?” he smiled.

“Um, yeah.” She turned to look over Bobby up close, and had to adjust her glasses to do so. “So you’re … Bobby, is it?”

“Yeah, I just came in for a beer.” He displayed his nearly empty beer glass in his left hand, and offered his right for a hand shake. She held her hand out level to the floor and he took it, after a quick shake he looked at her hand and ‘Oooooed’.

“Who did your nails? They are wonderful.”

Rebecca giggled. “Babs. She enjoys doing my nails. Now if only I could get her to leave the ‘Hello Kitty’ purse at home!” She giggled again. Bobby returned her smile.

After Rebecca wandered back to her seat, Bobby turned back to the bartender and handed the now empty glass over. Once it was filled again, Bobby noticed the pleasant knowing smile on the bartenders face.

“What?”

“Oh, I was just thinking. See, when I bought this place I had a cousin do the sign for me out front. Since it was family, I didn’t put up much of a fuss. Anthony always liked his breakfast to come outta the same bottle his dinner came from, so naturally he misspelled GRILL ...” They both chuckled. “People used to joke that the girl was in the office and I spent all my spare time back in there.”

“I can see why people would get that impression.”

“Well, one day Rebecca wandered in after work. She wasn’t 24/7 back then… she was still dressing up as a man for work. We got to talking and she became a regular.” The bartender picked up a clean empty glass and polished it with a bar towel. “Business got slow and we got to know each other pretty well. That’s when I found out about Rebecca.”

The bartender put the glass down and looked at Bobby.

“She came in because she wanted a beer, and stayed because it was a friendly place. Now, we’re kinda an unofficial TG-Bar. We get a couple locals, but they don’t mind so much anymore. Stella was next, then Babs, then Elaine. I don’t remember when Simone showed up, but one day it was like she’d always been here.” He took the empty beer glass from Bobby again and filled it.

“And Stray?”

“Oh, he just kinda shows up intermittently. Usually gets into a couple arguments and then he’s off again. Some times he stays for an hour, or a week. Then gone for a week to 4 months.” The bartender chuckled. “Kinda like a stray cat.”

Bobby blinked, then looked at Stray’s outfit.

“Munkustrap. That’s where I’d seen it before!” The bartender laughed and looked over to Stray before shouting over the bar noise.

“Hey, Stray! That’s another you owe the house!” perplexed Stray looked around and in a baritone that was not common to the current clientele he answered back.

“Again? That’s what? Three for three?”

The cheer from the bar echoed in Bobby’s ears for a moment.

“What’d he mean three for three?”

“Each visit he buys the bar a round if a ‘normal’ or new T-girl can guess the origin of his outfit. So the last two times he was here a new person figured it out. You make three in a row.”

“Over how much time?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like nine or eleven months.”

“He doesn’t…”

“No, he only wears it here, and I have it laundered for his next visit … whenever that’ll be. He pays for it all so I don’t worry. Never had a bad check outta him.”

The bartender walked down to administer to the thirst of another pair of conversationalists at the far end of the bar, leaving Bobby with his thoughts for a couple minutes. When the bartender returned Bobby still had a mostly full beer glass. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Bobby snapped out of it. “Oh. Uh, no I was… well…”

“Just thinking?”

“Yeah.”

“Lemme ask you this. How often do you choose to sit down to pee?”

“What? Why I … only at home! I mean I have to clean it up and … well…” the bartender smiled.

“And what would a gentleman like you know about nail polish?” Bobby scratched the back of his head.

“I, uh… well, they did look really nice.”

The bartender nodded. “Yes. But I’d bet you your current tab that you know more about nails and polish than what looks nice.”

Bobby stared at him a moment and took his wallet out, settling the debt without admitting he’d lost.

“How often, if I may ask?” the bartender asked.

Bobby blushed. “Weekends, mainly. Started off playing with my sister’s makeup. And well. I kept a few things out of it. Not where she could find it, of course. I kept stuff like purloined Playboy’s there so she’d have something to show to dad when she snitched.” He giggled and slapped his hand over his mouth with a shocked look on his face.

The bartender chuckled.

“Ever share your secret with anyone?”

Bobby gave a sigh, a mournful sigh. “Just once. I… I thought she’d understand. It was just a game at first but. Well. She didn’t wanna play anymore and left before we ruined our lives with marriage.”

There was an understanding silence around him as people that overheard the story related without comment, knowing exactly how it had happened to them.

Bobby looked up at the bartender. “What about you? You ever try it?”

The bartender laughed. “Not while I’m working, but I’m not only the president, I’m also a client!” he beamed a smile at Bobby, who offered his hand. They shook.

“I’m Arnold Carlisle.”

“Robert Justin Hester. Pleasure. What is your name when you’re not working?”

“Arianna. I’m not public, but, well, the staff here know, and I don’t get out often.”

Bobby thought about it for a moment. He’d only ever admitted it to Fenchurch. “Bobbie, Bobbie Jean,” he finally said shyly.

Arnold nodded and spoke with a friendly smile and a warm expression. “It is my pleasure to greet you to my bar … Ms. Bobbie Jean Hester.”

Bobbie’s heart warmed. hearing his secret name spoken aloud by someone he’d only just met, and to be accepted!

An older man set his hand on Bobbie’s shoulder as he stepped up to the bar.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Bobbie.”

“Off again, Joan?” asked Arnold.

“Please, John. Yes, I need to get home and work on a few things.”

“You missed a spot.” Arnold commented rubbing at the corner of his mouth with a finger.

John took out a handkerchief and wiped off a smudge of lipstick he’d missed.

“Thank you, I was a bit distracted,” he said, slightly embarrassed.

Diplomatically, Arnold said, “Happens to the best of us once in a while, John.”

Bobbie looked around, slightly confused. He hadn’t seen anyone remotely looking like Joan … er, John, when he was being given the nickel tour.

“Where was she? A private booth?” Bobbie asked as John walked away. Arnold shook his head.

“Changing. Most people here are not 24/7, so they carry a spare set of clothing with them and change when they get here, and change back when they leave. Some take a locker in the changing room, but that doesn’t allow them to switch outfits very often.” He chuckled. “Heck, I remember the time that Wanda forgot to change back when she left and the cops picked her up for ‘Street Walking’. Took her hours to explain it to people!”

“That’s dreadful!” Bobbie was aghast!

“Nah, just embarrassing. She used her one phone call to call here and we all went down to bail her out. Mostly we didn’t change, so it added a bit of weight to the argument. Now the local law enforcement will ask us if we’ve just come from Arnold’s. Cuts down on arrests, but it also means they want in on the loop.” He winked. “And get a pint or two once in a while.” He chuckled again. “Oh, and then there is Officer Crayons.” He held his hands out in front of him like he was carrying two grocery bags.

Bobbie almost spit her beer out.

“You have GOT to be kidding me? How can she WALK?” not even noticing her voice was a falsetto instead of the light tenor she’d walked in the door with.

“Lots of practice. She jokes that she’s always armed ‘cause she always has two magnums with her.” Arnold chuckled. “She had her name legally changed just after the implants. When she introduces herself, do NOT ask if you can play with her ‘Crayons’… it gets old after the first hundred times or so.” Bobbie was giggling, then she felt a warm presence beside her. When she looked that way she found Stray almost pressed up against her.

“Grrreetings.” He smiled a toothy grin. “Buy you a drink?”

“I think you owe me one anyway, isn’t that correct?” Bobbie grinned back at him, hardly noticing how she’d changed her behavior unconsciously. Knees together, ankles crossed, elbows close to her sides.
Stray gave her a toothy grin that held more fangs than was usually seen outside of a Vampire Gathering. “Of course I do. Arnold my dear friend, something PINK for the lady!” he said rather grandiosely.

“Hmmm, how about a… ‘Hello Kitty’?”

Stray put a paw to his breast and took a theatrically staggering step backward. “I said pink, not… not… Ew! No!” Stray put an articulated paw on her shoulder and said desperately “Don’t do it! Save you’re self! You’re too young to die that cruelly!”

Babs from across the room hollered out “Heeeeey!” which set the bar to giggling.

“Actually I’m interested … maybe just one?” Arnold smiled wickedly as Stray started mock-crying in grief for his ‘fallen comrade’ as he staggered back to his table and argument.

What was delivered was intensely pink, and had more sugar than anything alcoholic should be allowed to have by law! Bobbie took a tentative sip from the straw. Thought for a moment and took another, slightly larger sip. Then sucked as hard as she could on the straw and went cross-eyed trying to get any of the drink to come OUT of the darned straw!

What hit her taste buds cannot be described without using colorful metaphors and carnal verbs.

(continued?)