THE DANGER OF DEAF BARTENDERS by Brian Fugett

I rock back & forth
on the barstool
nervous fingers fumbling with a cigarette;
I gaze at the woman next to me,
admiring the long brown hair
that drools lazily from her scalp
over her shoulders
& spills across the back
of her tight blue dress.


I knock back a shot of whiskey
& work up the nerve
to talk to her.


excuse me, I say, tapping her shoulder,
could I buy you a drink?
she slowly turns around
& I am startled to see
she is wearing a gauzy surgical mask
the same shade as her dress.


she looks at me with bloodshot eyes,
blinks once, & tells me she will have
a rum & coke.


a panic steals over me
& I can’t think
of anything to say
as I stare dumbly at the mask.


I am a dog breeder, she tells me,
I have successfully created
a chihuahua/pit bull hybrid
that I call the chi-bull.
they have proven to be
extremely popular
with the indigenous population
of northern Mexico. I have a client there
who uses them for his lucrative
dog fighting business. he claims
that my chi-bulls are the fiercest, bravest
creatures he has ever had the privilege of owning.


at this point I am spooked;
I want the conversation to end
so I order the woman a rum & coke
but the bartender is half-deaf
& the batteries in his hearing-aid
haven’t been changed since 1974.

Brian Fugett is a member of the slacker, fast food generation that has been branded with an “X”. He sits in his pad all day consuming more oxygen than he’s worth. He’s been doing it for 47 years now & has become quite efficient at it. Some day he hopes to be president of the “International Society of Incontinent Gum Swallowers”, a support group for people who compulsively swallow gum & piss themselves. Until that day arrives, he occupies his time with writing, photography, boozing, tail-chasing and occasional pugilism.