The Case of the Drunken Beach Ho
A Semi-Fiction Novel
By.... Peter Hill
The Night Before
It was a day, like any other day. At a dive bar, on an island, in the Gulf of Mexico.
The day was Saturday September 10th 2016. I was playing Mahuffer's Tiki Bar,
in the early evening, as I have for the last six years. It was an average show, quite a few
people in the crowd, the weather was nice. I think I made only $29 in tips that night.
That's low compared to other Saturdays.
As usual, I got done with my show, put my music equipment up for the evening
and sat down at the inside bar, drank a beer, had a smoke and listen to the idle chit chat
as the employees did there closing chores. As the barbacks were putting the last buckets of
ice on the beer and the bartenders counting the last of there tips. I knew the end of the night
was approaching. So I got myself a fresh beer and an ash tray, headed for the couch i sleep on
by the inside stage. It was 2:30am by now and the employees were filing out of the door, which is
by the stage where I sleep. Soon they were all gone and I was alone at last to enjoy my
final beer and smoke before I lay down for the night. As I sipped my beer and lazily puffed
my Marlboro, I thought to myself, I suppose I have a pretty good life for an ex-drifter. Sleeping
on a couch in a bar on an island was a far cry from my days of sleeping under a freeway bridge and
eating out of soup kitchens. Maybe in some kind of cosmic way I had made it to the big time. with
that thought I finished my beer, extinguished my smoke, laid down and drifted off to sleep.
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