#12

One day, when I just chose to drown my sorrows at the local pub, the bartender, in his infinite wisdom, came to me and asked: “What’s wrong, my friend?” It was a Tuesday afternoon and the population of the pub was up to three regulars, me – with my pint and my newspaper looking up at me – and another bloke.
“I want to help…” I started by saying but trailed off. Some article about a strike dawned in my line of sight as my eyes followed my voice down.
“The kitchen needs a lot of help in the cleaning section.” he joked.
“The environment” I continued with a twinkle in my defiance now.
“Well, you’re right, the environment here could need some perking up as well” he was fishing for the rest of my sentence.
“The one outside, the one that we’re killing slowly but steadily…but I don’t know how” I finally said.
“You could have said that from the start. My only question is why the environment and not the people who are killing it? Maybe looking at targeting the cause, helping everyone around you might make more of an effect than everything that is around you. Faster and lasts longer, I’d think.” And the wise bartender let the words settle before he walked off. The strike was black and white, emotions written across angry and exhilarated faces. The bartender’s words just clicked, they clicked in me and put my mind to work. The energy reverberating out the article had now infected me. This was something I could share. I paid my tab and when he reached for the money I held the money for just a moment longer, looking in his eyes in gratitude. Before I could let go though, five words slipped through my lips.
“Would you consider helping me?”

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