A fat douchebag walks into a bar

I sat alone at one of the little tables at IC’s Bar in Los Baños. I ordered their famous quarter pounder burger and a bottle of San Mig Light. I was thinking about the stupid life choices I made that led me to that lonely situation. I was thinking about what beer could do to my body if I’m taking antibiotics, because I totally am. I was thinking about the burger and how delicious it was. I kept checking my phone, somehow hoping for a miracle. And then an old man walked into the bar.

An old man walks into a bar

He’s probably in his late 70′s or early 80′s, I’m not sure. He entered the bar looking around as if he was confused. I thought he was lost because I’ve never seen anyone that old enter IC’s and I have seen hundreds of people entering that LB institution. I thought it was the stuff of epic bar jokes. I was ready for hilarity to ensue, but I realized he wasn’t lost. As soon as the waiter saw the old man, he opened a bottle of Pale Pilsen, gave it to the old man and directed him to an empty table across mine. I didn’t see them exchanging words, but minutes later, the waiter brought pasta to the old man’s table. He’s a regular.

A brutal realization walks into a bar

I ordered a few more beers as I observed the old man. He had nice normal clothes on. He was carrying a bag of groceries. He was texting while eating his food and drinking his beer. He looked around every once in a while, not particularly searching for something or someone. He just looked around. As I observed him discretely, I thought it was a very sad sight. Alone. Drinking beer. Eating food. Texting. Looking around so he wouldn’t look like he’s in deep thought, which he obviously was. He was alone and he took steps to not look like it. And then I realized I was in the exact same situation doing the exact same thing. Except for smoking, everything I was doing, he was doing as well. It was like looking at myself from 50 years in the future.

Your future self walks into a bar

It was the stuff of epic bar jokes, alright. The kind of joke that isn’t funny, but actually extremely sad. The butt of the joke was me. The sight of that old man alone in a bar scared me. For a few short seconds that felt like infinity, I panicked, realizing that I could be looking at my future. Shambling into a bar to eat and drink alone, looking at other people and how happy they are with their lives. It’s the kind of joke that life always tells us at the most inconvenient moments. The kind where you’re the big fat douchebag-y punch line. Lessons can be learned but are often not. After I finished the burger and several bottles of beer, I left the bar, got into my car and drove off while thinking “WORST. JOKE. EVER.”