Wet Feathers "Sorry about the crow in your martini. He got in here yesterday, and we haven't been able to get him out. I know how wet feathers can foul a drink. They get wet, they stink up the whole damn bar. "Crows? No, not all year. Just during Special Sessions -- the UN, you know. The worst time is when the President comes up from Washington. Heads of State gatherings are worst; the worst! We get more strange birds in here then." "Besides crows? Swallows, painted buntings...and those yellow ones.... 'Fred, what are those the yellow-bellied and speckled-wing ones called again...smaller than crows...?' Meadowlarks...western variety. We get Audubon people, come here sometimes. You just don't see your western variety on the East Coast." "The square hole above the window? That's for the bats. We can't help it if crows get during the day.... No, you can't do that to bats. No, you really can't. Hey, I'm sorry about that crow in your drink, but we are across from the UN. Bats are our friends. The mosquitos would eat us alive.... This is an island we're living on here. You never heard about any of this.... What am I the New York Times...? You never noticed all those square holes in buildings? You've been coming here for years! Some bars like to make them look like windows, but basically we've got square holes for the bats." "Listen, the manager sets the bat policy. I just tend bar. You want to talk to him, talk to him. He 's over there in the corner. Yeah, yeah.... Way over in those dark shadows. He's fond of bats, I gotta tell you. Spiders.... All that stuff. He's all right.... He's dressed in black, that's why you can't see him. Go on.... No?" "Well, I'll say this, you don't like it here, go across the street. But they got bats too.... Crows? Yes, they've got crows. I'm trying to tell you, buddy. We all got bats. They're harmless. Do you see any bats? Are they bothering you? Crows now that's a different story? There is a crow problem this time year. They're in special session over there! Hey, you did order a martini. What can I tell you. Crows like 'em. You don't see anybody else drinking martinis in crow season. Take a look. You see. Crows stay away from gimlets and tequila sunrises -- won't touch a pink lady. Never seen 'em land in a cape cod or a sea breeze, something about cranberry juice getting on their feathers." "I didn't warn you? You ordered a martini! I figured you knew. There is always a chance a crow is going to land in one. Hell, sometimes they don't, you just never know. We got one woman comes in, a regular, says 'I've been drinking martinis since WW II. I won't give up cause of a few crows and ravens.' That's what she says. Ravens? That big one there is raven for sure. It's hard to tell them apart. I think it was a raven got your martini. Hell they may all be ravens, I don't know, we just call them crows...simpler. "You thought it said something to you? I'm not surprised. Guys think Poe made up that 'Nevermore' story. Unhuh. It's not imagination. Poets, they're like cameras, just write down what they see.... People think they make it up. I know, we got a lot of poets come in here -- work as commodities brokers, diplomats, cops. Listen, four or five drinks -- and the poetry you hear! Slurred maybe, but... poetry." "But anyway like I say sometimes she gets a crow in her martini, sometimes she doesn't. There's hasn't been a single crow dipping in that second martini I made you." Damn. Sorry, Buddy. Stephen Williamson |