Come, sit right here. Let me tell you a little something. I've been searching the city of St. Louis looking for all sorts of different bars, lounges and taverns figuring out what one place has to offer compared to another. I found the high style yuppie bars, I found the casual, back to the basics, usually friendly, neighborhood bars, I found the dark punk bars where everyone makes an intense effort to dress ultra alternative, and I found the places where I shouldn't be. These places helped me create my own experience, Bosh's Delights, a gathering of images and writings based on experiences, perception, encounters, and imagination.
Pain? Success? Drama? Demonstration? The aging of years, the layering of layers, the grappling onto life and days and work and school and letting go of it when you just need a break. Why do we need a break? The constant adjustment to the simplicity and complexity of what the fuck is going on? I even need a break just trying to describe what it is I need a break from, and why it is I need it.
To most, work is just a nuisance, an abomination to their soul. It's a way to make money, to survive, to live, to get along, to nurture what is sacred to their life.
Where can I go to escape? Where is an easy place to find women within a social setting where perhaps my ramblings will sound more appropriate and, hey, if I fail, at I'll be drunk. Sounds like fun to me, a nice nightcap and possibly a little more like an afternoon of reflection and denial or celebration for others. UHHH, where can I fins a place to relieve myself, relinquish myself to the attractive toxins of the human condition? Aha, a Bar...
Why is it that a bar is the commonplace for the common public? Drinks, women, men ... the essentials. The bar's a place held very dear because of its role in society, a gathering for all to meet, greet, enjoy, and accompany. Throw some alcohol in there and you've got a legal heaven. After all who doesn't like encouraging human weaknesses?
Alfred usually comes in with one of his buddies from the dish-washing crew and they sit down for awhile in the later part of the night and help with the cleaning, get a drink, a smoke, and a laugh. They're out after that unless one of them passes out before then, like Alfred did here.
It's 11:47 pm at Bosh's on a Tuesday night. A very bald, very drunk, insanely jealous, sad looking man is making a move on a kindergarten teacher, Bess. Later, he approaches me while I'm talking to my new friend Paul, whose in the midst of telling me that he drops one hundred dollars a night on alcohol and got cancer in the roof of his mouth about two years ago. He got it surgically removed and stayed with his mom while healing. Once he got back in order, he found a girl and moved in with her thinking his life was finally back in order. He later found out his girl had been cheating on him the whole time they were together.