Mr. Bartender
By Ivan Chizurum Ezeigbo
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Mr. Bartender!
Mr. Bartender!!
That is what they call me
The man behind the bar
Tequila or beer, snapps or whisky
Whatever they want
My father owned this shop
Poor and sick; it was our installments
Mr. Bartender, a name I took from anyone
No everyone had the right to call me that
It didn’t mind they had no concern for my real name
Mr. Bartender was all I answered
To everyone but her
And even worse, hertender
Mr. Bartender, she called
It gripped me, tearing my heart apart
It squeezed every single muscle and i tried not to look up
Saving time to keep up the confidence and boldness
I tended the bar, after all
And I have been behind that bar since father died
Little sister needed tuition, food, she wanted a life
I was living to meet up to her needs
Uncertain of tomorrow’s
And her
‘Her’ had a tender, to she alone tender, by her side
He called me just the bartender and himself hertender
I was not furious or ashamed of my ill luck
I was sure to recompense
After all, the bartender always gets the occupancy bill paid
He kissed her today and yesterday
And another female in between
He hugged her now and before
And a lady, Monday
He was hertender yesterday and perhaps tomorrow
Today, I don’t know, multi-tenders, I guess
Unlike me, the poor wrench, who had been bartender for life
No day to vary, sister might cry
And to be hertender, a second or two would suffice
Adequate to lead me through another era tending the bar
Tequila, scotch, champagne, he paid little
Could pay it all because he had the money
I gave her the discount, the pay I could ever contribute
‘Her’ did too and of course would have no one less
No one that could not pay even a tuition, food or a life
Mr. Bartender
That was all he said
Now I am behind the bar like always
No this time, behind the bar, just a different bar
For assaulting a lady and bruising his face
I can remember her tensed, tired, and amazed look
As I bashed his face and as she opened her eyes slowly releasing her lips
He was a multi-tender, now she knows
And I would want to be hertender, she knows that too
Little sister comes to see me
‘Her’ tags along
She says sister needs not worry and I don’t too
About the tuition, food, or a life
I was glad but I did not know for sure
Not the money but who was the new hertender
Maybe, it might be the man behind the bar,
Mr. Bartender.