It was a cold Tuesday evening. There was a light drizzly that could be seen through the foggy picture window in the front of the bar. It was mostly empty except a few stragglers who were fast clearing out. I served another single-malt whiskey on the rocks to one of the regulars, an older gentleman probably in his eighties or nineties who went by the nickname Bing, he would come in around 6:30 every night and have a few drinks with some other guys who frequented the place.
I always preferred working weekdays, I could do a little reading and didn't have to deal with the drunken idiots that littered the place every weekend. It's Pretty much a win-win situation.
I lazily wiped down the counter for the umpteenth time wondering when my shift would end. After a while I decided to start cleaning things up for the night. It was still a few hours till closing but business was pretty slow and there probably wouldn't be another customer all night so why not? You stacked some glasses behind the bar and filled the ketchup bottles on the tables.
It had been about half an hour and the last customer had just left when you heard the door creak open and as a man in jeans and a black coat walked in. He looked to be in his thirties with short hair, blue eyes, and a bitter look on his face. Being a bartender you saw guys like this all the time, problems with their marriage , stress at work, recent break-ups; some people drink for fun, others drink to forget and he was definitely part of the latter group.
I made my way over to where he sat in the corner slumped over the bar and asked "What can I getcha?"
"I'll have a Jack and Coke," he fidgeted with a coaster while waiting for his drink.
Set the drink in front of him as I pulled back a few stray strands of hair. "If you wanna talk I'm all ears." I mentioned offhandedly while rounding up stray bits of garbage crumpling them up and throwing them into the garbage. "Let me guess what's wrong... Is it a girlfriend? No wait, I got it... It's your job." I folded my arms across my chest leaning back slightly. "I find it helps to talk things out, just get it off your chest."
He took another sip of his drink as a small chuckle escaped his lips before he uttered in a low voice "Oh really? Well, if I told you, I'd have to kill you."
"What are you then? A spy? Assassin? Or is it a superhero?" I replied in a teasing tone before turning to quickly reorganize a few bottles.
"If you only knew..." the man bent forward resting his face in his hands.
Leaning up against the bar barely a foot away from his face and giving a soft smile I said "What is it then? "
He tilted his head up so we were now eye to eye "Guess you'll just have to find out."
I gave him a quizzical look cocking my eyebrow and tilting my head to the side wondering what he meant.
Before I could question him any further he got up leaving some bills on the counter. Just as he got the the door I called out to him "Hey, I never caught your name."
He turned and said "Clint, Clint Barton" then slipped out into the night.
As I was grabbing the money off the counter I noticed a piece of paper. Picking it up I realized it was a phone number. Letting a small smile creep across my lips as I read the paper.
"Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy so here's my number. Call me maybe?"