Being chronically understaffed is a nightmare I can't seem to wake from. Not only did I have to close last night, but here I am, back before dawn, opening. I must have forgotten to lock the back door after closing, because when I walk into the bar, a bear is making its way through the garnishes, one jar at a time.
Tart cherry juiceβplease let it be cherry juiceβsplatters the top shelf and dribbles down the liquor bottles. Broken glass shimmers across the floor. It looks like a murder scene, except the only one that is about to be murdered is me, by the bear, that just made eye contact.
βOh shββ I shriek as the bear pops the top off another jarβyup, cherriesβand plops a juicy one into their maw, White teeth glistening against the red juice.
The bear grumbles faintly as it chews, eyes never leaving mine.
βGood bear,β I say, slowly backing toward the door. βI would taste terrible.β Another step backward. βYou don't want to eat me.β I feel my back bump against the doorframe.
The bear places the jar down before stalking toward me, head tilting back and forth, like it's considering the validity of my words.
I press myself harder against the door as I fumble for the doorknob. If I can get back outside, then animal control can deal with the bear, and I can pretend this never happened.
βWhat are you doing?β The voice is deep and gravely, and it's coming from the bear.
This is definitely a nightmare. This is what happens with sleep deprivation: you start to hallucinate. I pinch my arm and wince at the sharp sting.
βIβm Oliver,β the bear says as it sits on its haunches and points a paw toward its chest. βMy friends call me Ollie.β The bear eagerly extends his paw toward me.
I stare back at the bear, then at his paw. Does he want me to shake it?
βWhat is happening?β I look frantically around the bar for a hidden camera. This must be a prank. Is this just an elaborate bear costume?
βWell, Iβm trying to introduce myself.β The bear waves his extended paw between us. βBut you haven't told me your name yet.β
βAlex,β I stammer and tentatively take a step closer.
βIβm not going to eat you, Alex,β Oliver says.
βOk, what are you going to do then?β My voice wobbles.
βI was hoping to come to an arrangement,β Oliver replies, rolling the rβs.
βWhat kind of arrangement?β I canβt believe Iβm talking to a bear.
βThrow away more cherries, please.β Oliver bares his teeth in a smile, but it looks more like a snarl.
βAlex! What the hell happened in here?β Max, my boss, screams from the front of the bar. Apparently, he doesn't see the bear.
βDo you want me to take care of that?β Oliver looks toward Max.
βHow?β
βI said I wouldn't eat you,β Oliver replies with a wink.