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The Night They Closed the Plunkett Bar

'I'm bored and going crazy,' said the young man to his friend. 'This small town living sucks my soul and grief will be my end. So something better happen soon to break this irksome trend.' 'What can we do?' The other extolled while continuing their walk. 'This place is like a ghost town and all we do is talk. And all the girls are now in bed and it's only ten o'clock.' They thought a bit and were not content to see just how things are. When one exclaimed, 'I know a place and it isn't very far. The time has come to take a chance and go to Plunkett's bar.' They walked right in standing tall to hide their tender years. People stared but their caps were low as they tried to hide their fear. Under age with no I.D. so their chances were unclear. Sam was huge, he tended bar and had a fearsome grin. He told the boys to come on over as their hopes began to spin. 'What can I get you?' he uttered plain, 'They meekly answered gin.' 'Gin is fine and beer is good when served in any vessel. But I've got something you should try and demons you will wrestle. So sit right down and join the fun and try a Plunkett special.' Sam poured their drinks, something orange with lemon for a twist. It tasted dreadful but they were men and needed no assist. But if Hell had bars they'd be smart and put this on their list. Sam had stories, funny ones about a man who wandered in. If depression had a brother this man would be his twin. 'I've got troubles,' said the man. 'If you knew just where I've been.' 'I've lost my job, my dog has died and my truck's been repossessed. My daughter has left her college so my Parents aren't impressed. To top it off... my wife's gone back to dating just adding to my stress.' 'So I'll take this drink, pound it down and put away my fears. Give up the ghost and put away my shame as I've led a life of tears. I'll end it all and not look back, this will be my last beer.' When in the door a trucker came who looked the missing link. And sits beside this sad little man who's clearly on the brink. And quaffs the beer the man had hoped would be his final drink. The man starts to cry and the Trucker says, 'It only was a prank. I didn't mean to make you sad and cause your heart to tank.' Through his sobs the man degrees, 'It was my poison that you drank.' They start to howl, what a joke, that Sam could turn a tale. But those Plunkett specials weren't sitting well as they both were turning pale. But Sam had said, 'These drinks are cheap and we're having quite a sale. They couldn't believe their luck had turned, they're drinking just like Kings. The liquor flowed and the band was hot, what would the next drink bring? And Sam kept pouring, he didn't stop as they ordered chicken wings. Such a time was had by all and they thanked their lucky star. Though the drinks were bad and Sam was cool, they still found it quite bizarre. That two young boys with their first time out had closed down the Plunkett bar. Last call fell so they walked on home and from what they could deduce. Their stomachs were not so happy after suffering much abuse. And to this day they never knew they were drinking pumpkin juice. The End

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 4/18/2019 2:01:00 PM
your stories belong to the radio person who use to say 'and now you know the rest of the story"
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Date: 4/13/2019 12:03:00 PM
I had to visit this poem again David. The last line just kicks ass. Made me laugh again just reading it again. To me you truly write song/poems. Lyric like. Campfire songs in tales that keep me the reader mesmerized. I read someone's comment that said you should sing these songs. You said you have no singing voice. No need. To read spoken word poetry. You should make a CD of you just reading your poems. I use to write lyrics for the Denim Dirt Farmers. You can check out their CDs for free online
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David McHattie
Date: 4/15/2019 4:14:00 PM
Cool Jeff. I'll check them out. Thanks.
Date: 4/11/2019 2:13:00 PM
So funny David. An Irish pub tale for sure. "Water is the strong stuff/It carries whales and ships/But Water is the wrong stuff/Don't. Let it get passed your lips"- from Rab's Last Woolen Testament- Robin Williamson's Merry Band.
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Date: 4/2/2019 5:26:00 AM
This line alone made this the funniest poem: "To top it off, my wife's gone back to dating, just adding to my stress.'' I kept wondering what in the world was going to be in the Plunkett special! So glad you told me. If you are a songwriter, you are making a fortune. If not, you should be!
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David McHattie
Date: 4/5/2019 10:24:00 AM
I'm certainly not a singer, that's for sure.
Date: 3/31/2019 7:17:00 PM
G'day David … another fine tale David. Your storytelling certainly is interesting I must say - well done again - Lindsay
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David McHattie
Date: 4/3/2019 5:00:00 PM
Thank you for the kind words.