It’ll be a long time comin, that first visit. We’re no sure where or when it’ll happen, just that it will. We’re no sure where or when, but we ken exactly how it’ll go, how it’ll look, how it’ll feel. But first things first: we’ll havetae agree a day. We’ll havetae see who’s working when, see when we’re aw available, get everythin sorted.
The day of, we’re gonnae be ready far too early. We’re gonnae pace between windows till it’s time for the bus or train or whatever, an we’ll aw be doin the same, wherever we are. We will walk the street, comin in fae various locations, an as we go, we’ll feel a wee touch sick, nervy for no reason at aw; mair excitement than nerves, but it’ll feel close. An ye wouldnae call it a skip in the step exactly, but oor trainers, clean fae lack a use, will move light on the pavements. It’ll be warm too, ideally; we’ll no have jackets on. Everythin necessary’ll be in bags or jeans; for some, even held in the hand.
The place, wherever we choose, is gonnae emerge roond a corner and it will be strange and familiar. We’ve probably been past before, looked in the empty windows, gone, ‘I hope they’re doin alright for themselves’; gone, ‘I hope they make it through.’ But it will be there and it will be open and some a us will meet ootside, by chance. It’ll be clumsy, like a first date. Do ye go in for the hug? Is that even allowed yet? Do ye say the unsaid? We’ll get past all that though, all that fuss, cause there’s a path laid oot for us, one we remember well.
Here’s how it’ll be. There will be soft light; in a perfect world, it’s aboot half-three, four in the p.m. There will be just enough folk in; the place isnae rammed, but no dead either. There will be a table empty at the back, wi enough seats for awbody. No one will hover; no one will havetae ask, ‘This seat taken, pal?’ Awbody will be present, awbody correct. It’ll be strange at first, fair enough, but that’s tae be expected; the auld ways will reveal themselves soon enough.
We will feel a rush at gettin a round in. That small joy of standin, watchin the bronze shine on the taps, what folk want runnin through yer mind. Maybe someone’s drivin, maybe someone’s aff it. Nae worries. Say nae mair. Ye can have a water or a juice or whatever ye fancy. Nae judgement here; no today. If ye’re skint, don’t sweat it either; we’ve got ye covered. This is a place where, for a couple a quid, ye can just be. Sit doon, settle in, and be. There’s others ahead of ye in the queue; fair enough, ye’ve got the time. It’ll feel good to say, ‘On you go’ to a person ye can see.
After, ye’ll bring the glasses over two by two, and everyone’ll go, ‘Thanks pal’, and ye’ll go, ‘Nae bother’, and believe it too. Cause it’s only cash; it means nothin at all right now. Later on, the system is gonnae fall apart and awbdy will end up deep in debt to awbdy else. Folk’ll spend crazy money and do it happily; they’re buyin somethin mair than the thing they’re buyin. Money is a token traded gladly for small pleasures: this light, this table, these walls, and the words spoke within.
Cause we’ll want tae speak. We’ll want tae hear the new stories fresh; we’ll want the greatest hits on repeat too. We want the laughs, when they come, tae get us by surprise, by force. We want tae be creased over, shakin heids, our beaks in the head of whatever we’re drinkin. We want there tae be this big main chat goin on, but we need the mini ones too. The wee extras on the side. This pair couldnae care less aboot politics, so they’ve started somethin in the corner aboot somethin on the telly, somethin they’ve read. We want tae be on the side a somethin, and hear this one mad line an turn an be like, ‘Eh? What was that?’ We want folk to vanish for what seems like hours, then reappear, an it turns oot we were just distractit, busy wi whatever else. We want time no tae matter; last orders is this horizon we hope to skirt.
For a while, we might seek distraction; fae those we’ve lost, fae the things taken off us. But they’ll be here, the missin. Just oot a focus, fuzzed in the stained-glass, they’ll be gathered roond tae feel part of it, part a somethin precious an temporary. An maybe one a us does greet and maybe one a us does gets pissed off; so what. Bring what ye carry to this table and let it rest. As we work, these weights will be portioned up, divided, shared; bet ye any money ye’ll leave wi less than ye brought. An honestly too: somethin sincere, spoke wi conviction an pain, an, for this night, lackin irony or sarcasm; that will gain oor respect forever.
But here’s the promise: we will be thegether, wi nothin inbetween, no space or time; just this drink, an perhaps another, an we will says cheers to each other, an this cheers will be given for the cheers itsel, for the true gift of sayin it aloud, for reachin clumsily to catch those you’ve missed, for the bell sound of real glass touchin real glass, ringin clear throughout whatever place this is.
‘To the good times,’ we will say. ‘Always.’