Have you seen this person?

I was sitting in a wonderful little bar the other day enjoying a cold beer when I realized that I knew everyone in the place. I didn't know their names, but I knew them. It was after 5:00pm and happy hour was starting to really move a bit. Now this particular bar doesn't serve food, so one of the regulars who works at a restaurant during lunches brings in treats for the gang, and having seen me in there before, offered me a sandwich. Of course I accepted, and knowing that he wasn't making them for paying customers, but rather for friends, he made them with a little bit more toppings than usual. Delicious. There was the old timer at the end of the bar who had been there well-before I got there. Drinking long necks, pouring it 3oz. at a time in a small juice glass, with a separated pile of cash in front him... one for the beers and one for the bartender. There was the lonely guy who talks to everybody and needs his couple of hours in the bar to feel normal again. There was the other lonely guy who is that way because he hates talking, and he sat crumpled at the end of the bar watching the evening news with closed captioning and nursing his Windsor. There's the group of office workers who got out a little early and were still venting about the day. One of the ladies was being chastised for inviting the boss to join them when his day was over, another being applauded for the donuts she brought in for breakfast. One of the fellows with the ladies was trying way too hard to make jokes hoping to court one of the other girls. He doesn't realize that he's a career mail-room guy and she's using the job as a stepping stone to six figures... he doesn't have a chance. Then there's the group of recent retirees, three of them in fact, enjoying every moment of their new found freedom by being drunk at noon, and bitching about the weather because they can't wait to start golfing again. They're being loud, but not obnoxious, and they obviously know the bartender well, because every dirty joke and playful flirt is greeted with appreciation, not disdain. The local mailman is there, done with his day. Looking ragged from the rough weather he's endured. You can tell, he's enjoying his drink almost more than anyone else. Walking in is the out-of-place guy. He's usually out on Friday and Saturday nights, so he thinks his usual act is OK with day-timers. Little does he know, that yelling across the bar, tipping like crap and playing $5 worth of Pearl Jam on the jukebox isn't going to cut it at happy hour. He spends an hour fighting back and forth with the bartender about the appropriate volume level. He loses. He drinks six beers in one hour, ends with a shot of Jager, tips $2 for the whole tab and thinks we'll all miss him when he's gone. Adios! Back to the restaurant employee who brought the sandwiches: He's such a regular that he pays in advance. He gets the same amount beers, and the same two shots everyday. He dishes out the food, sets down his money, minus the obvious "Thank You" no charge for the first couple of rounds and settles in to his stool. If a stranger is in it, he has no problem asking them to scoot down, and in a beautiful move of camaraderie, the rest of the bar has his back and urges the other guy to move. The bartender is beautiful, and you can tell she's worked in a lot bars for a lot of hours and knows all the tricks. She probably got the primo happy hour shift by being attractive, not for having seniority, and it's a perfect fit with all the old guys in the place. One of the office workers asks for some foo-foo shot. I think a chocolate cake shot. Nobody can remember how to make it because everyone in this bar is typically a purist. Straight drinks with maybe a splash of ginger or soda. Ice is the big curve ball. How much or how little? All of this going on around me made me wonder, who am I? Am I a duplicate of one of these characters or am I a completely new species? I came in because I work odd hours and anytime can be 5:00pm for me. I didn't have anywhere to be until 7:00pm when my wife was expecting me home for dinner. My biggest concern was feeling out my system to know whether or not I could have 2 drinks or 5 without the wife thinking I had more than 1. I guess maybe I'm the closet barfly. I come and I go. I enjoy my drinks, but with somewhere else to be. I'm not a wallflower, but I don't over stay my welcome either. I watch some TV and I don't openly criticize the idiot arguing that the moon landing was a conspiracy. I scan the jukebox just to see what kind of music dominates so I have an idea of the personality of the night time crowd. Ouch! Lots of new country and power ballads. I guess this is to be an afternoon option only. That's OK. I have lots of new friends. A cast of characters that I know like family and to think we just only met. I bet every afternoon bar in town has the same crowd.