A Bar Called Chances

I swear it was like a movie montage, but not in a good way. Everything that could go wrong today, surely did. I snoozed my alarm, overslept and was late to work. The boss did not like this. I left my lunch at home, and had a meeting with a terrible client. After work, hopped in my car to discover a dead battery. Got that bad boy jumped injust enough time to get home and ready for my date tonight.

Running a curling iron through my hair while jumping into tights and applying mascara, I was out my door. And then, as if the universe was aligned to royally fuck me over today, a rip of thunder caught my ear as rain beat down. Just as I find refuge in my car, I read a text that my date can ‘no longer make it tonight’. Well, great.

So, I did what any functional adult would do, found the nearest bar. Shining through the rain I read a neon sign, ‘Chances’, seemed like a fitting place to be today. It was exactly what you would expect: a dimly lit, hole-in-the-wall bar. I shook the rain off my coat and grabbed a bar stool. I took a napkin and tried to wipe the mascara currently running sprints down my cheeks. I’m certain I looked like a wreck, but after this day? Who cares, nothing a few drinks can’t smooth over.

“I’ll be right with youse darlin’!” the waitress called over, as she approached the man down the bar to take his order. I thought maybe I could lift my spirits with this little game I like to play where I try to guess a person’s drink just by looking at them, and this guy looked too expensive for this place. He was sporting a well tailored navy blue suit, maybe italian made. He had a briefcase next to him and a small black notebook in his hand. Cufflinks and a pocket square and a watch I would wager cost about three months rent for me. I would say a scotch man.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.” I knew it. He ordered that along with a plate of oysters and for some reason, he was wearing his sunglasses despite it being quite dark in this bar. I’ve heard the saying, ‘the sun never sets on a badass’, but I guess the same is true for rich men.

“And what can I get you, oh you poor thing!” the waitress said, looking up from her order pad to see me drenched and miserable. “Bad day, huh honey? Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, rough day. I’ll have a gin and tonic please.”

“Coming right up, darlin’.” After slinging the mystery man his scotch, she brought me over my drink. Although I didn’t ask for it, she handed me a double, she’s clearly not new to bartending, and a small stack of cloth napkins. “Here, to dry off a bit, and if you move one stool over, you’ll be right under the heater vent.”

And for the first time today, a small grin curled my lips, “Thank you so much…”

“Mandy darlin’, I’m Mandy”

“Jen, I’m Jen. Thanks Mandy” I replied.

I slid down to the next stool and felt the rush of warm air. A few sips of my double and this dark day was already starting to slip away. After making her rounds, Mandy made her way back over to me with a slice of pie in her hand. She slid it next to my drink.

“Pie’s on the house. So Jen, what happened today hun?” She looked right into my eyes as I noticed hers- almost the color of honey. Warm, sweet, caring. So I told her about my day, playing the characters of my boss and my client for dramatic effect, she laughed as I put on a show. I felt the day melt away from me, making her laugh made the day less terrible. And her caring about my story, well compassion cures most things.

“Well Jen I’m sorry to hear about all of that. I know how hard it is to be hopeful, especially on bad days,” and just like that, all the warmth in her smile seemed to vanish as reality set back into her soul. Despite her sunny disposition, I had a feeling Mandy was troubled.

“You have a bad day too?”

“More of a bad year, my dear, but you don’t worry about old Mandy. Can I get you another gin, love?” I smiled and nodded yes. Mandy made another round, as I scarfed down the pie, she looped back to me with my drink.

“Thank you,” I sipped my drink, “so Mandy, tell me about your year.” And she did. She was hesitant at first, but after some prompting she gave me the highlights. I quickly learned that Mandy is one of those rare people who, despite a life riddled with a string of terrible circumstances, still finds a way to be sweet and not bitter. Mandy had two children, a son and a daughter. Her son passed away when he were little, and the daughter passed away this year of breast cancer. Her daughter had two children as well, that Mandy now helps care for and support financially since her daughter’s husband was laid-off from his job. Mandy’s husband of 33 years also passed away, right before her daughter of a lung cancer. While grieving her husband, Mandy had the mortgage company after her. She was short on payments because she was funding her daughter’s cancer treatment. There was a trail treatment that seemed to help for a little while, but it was expensive. Drowning in medical bills, mortgage payments, and then funeral costs, Mandy works three jobs just to try to keep up.

“Mandy I… I’m so sorry,” Despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, I noticed scotch man was listening to our conversation. He quickly turned away when he caught me noticing him. “I can’t believe I was complaining to you about my bad day when you’ve had such a tough year.”

“Oh now, now. Just because I’ve had a bad year, doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to a bad day my dear! That’s the thing about feelings, we’ve all got them, and we’re all allowed to feel them. Besides, I’ve had a better day than you!” As she said this we both broke out into laughter, and she described her day to me. She told me about all the small moments of gratitude that made it a great day. Her morning coffee, getting her favorite seat on the bus to work, seeing her grandkids for lunch, and finding an old photo she had long forgotten about of her late husband.

“You see Jen, there is just so much out of our control in this world. In this life, if we don’t take time to see all the good things, no matter how small, we’ll just get swallowed up by all the bad. No matter what, we can’t lose hope.” Mandy, I thought, is the kind of person the world almost doesn’t deserve; still soft, no matter how hard her life. What a rare kind of angel.

“About a week after I lost my husband, I was walking around, just praying because I didn’t know how I was going to make it, and I saw the neon sign out front ‘Chances’ and I said, ‘Lord, you sure are funny sometimes’. I marched right in, ready to tell the manager all the reasons why they should hire me. You want to know what happened, Jen?”

“What’s that?”

“I cried. Ha! I just sobbed, my dear. I couldn’t muster up the strength. The bartender poured me a drink, and I told her all about what was going on and right there on the spot, she offered me a job.”

“That’s amazing!”

“It sure is, Chances took a chance on ol’ Mandy!” She said, chuckling at her own joke. “I’m still swimming in debt my dear, but whenever I start to lose hope, I try to remember that moment. And even more than that, the folks workin’ here have become like a second family to me. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for.”

“Mandy, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you. Thanks for sharing your story with me.”

“Anytime, my dear.” I ordered some dinner, and Mandy went to do another round of her customers. As I ate my meal, I reflected on what a genuine woman I had just met. I vowed to come back here, I would make this my regular spot now. Why had I never been here before, it was not far from my place? I would come and chat with Mandy, and I would always tip well. My whole spirit was lifted by this lady, that was the least I could do. I watched the scotch man pay his tab and leave. I looked down at my watch, a few hours had gone by and I barely noticed.

“Jen can I get you anything else darlin’? My shift’s about up, want to make sure I take care of you.” Mandy said.

“All set, just the bill.” She went to ring me up and grabbed the scotch man’s bill on the way. She picked it up and I watched a tiny frown flash across her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Oh nothing, he just didn’t tip, that’s all.”

“Really?” I was shocked, I knew that guy was loaded what an absolute-

“It’s alright dear. Maybe he didn’t have anything to spare.” Mandy said, seemingly interrupting my thoughts. She was far more generous than me, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Fuck this guy, he could have dropped her a few bucks.

As Mandy went to ring me up, I looked at the stool where cheap-ass had been sitting, and saw his little black notebook. He left it? I went over and picked it up. Feeling curious, and as though he had lost his right to privacy, I opened it.

“Mandy!” The shout escaped my lips, I could not believe what I was seeing.

She ran over, and I handed her the notebook. On the page was a single sentence, and a check, made out to Mandy. Her hands ran to her face and covered her mouth in disbelief as tears, like a waterfall, fell from her beautiful eyes. “I can’t believe, oh my lord, I can’t-” She was absolutely speechless.

“I guess Chances really is your lucky place Mandy!” Tears still in her eyes, she ran around the bar and hugged me. An embrace of celebration for her, and one of regained hope in humanity, for me.

“I don’t understand, why? Why me?” She asked.

“He heard us talking. I guess, he just wanted your tip to be a surprise after all,” I replied. Many closed the notebook and held it to her heart. Inside, a check made out to ‘Mandy’s Tip’ of $20,000, and a note: Don’t lose hope.

“You know darlin’,” she said as she wiped her eyes, “it doesn’t take away the grief, but this helps in ways I can’t explain. It gives me the hope I was losing.”

Although Mandy insisted on covering my drinks and dinner, I paid for them anyway. I told her I would be back next week, “you come back anytime Jen.” I put on my damp coat to leave, and took one more look back at Mandy, I caught her whispering a small prayer. I reflected on this crazy day. I had been so quick to judge the scotch man, and my assessment was all wrong of him.

It’s hard to say what makes luck, I don’t know the recipe, but if I had to guess I would wager hope is the main ingredient. If I do know one thing it’s this, there’s no place where hope is more needed, than chances.