Last Call

Harry pushed through the heavy wooden door and shuffled into Hair of the Dog, his favorite dive. Dragging his feet across the chipped linoleum floor, he collapsed into one of the worn fake leather stools at the end of the bar. Harry took a deep breath. The faint smell of cigarettes and stale beer clung to the air, and the din of country music and pool balls cracking filled his ears, but they were a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

“Hey Harry, your usual?” the bartender asked while pulling a pint glass down from the shelf.

“Yeah, and a shot of Jack Daniels. Make it a double.”

“You got it.” George turned and grabbed the bottle of Jack and set a glass half full in front of Harry and a pint of dark ale. George retreated to the other end of the bar to help a couple that had just wandered in. Harry reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out his little black notebook. Flipping through the pages, he shook his head with disgust. He picked up the rocks glass and gulped the amber liquid down, ignoring the searing burn in his throat. He slammed the empty glass back on the bar.

“Give me another one.”

“You and your lady fighting again?” George asked sympathetically as he poured another round.

Harry grunted. He wished that was his problem. He and Missy, both short tempered and stubborn, were renowned for their blowouts. Usually, that fire turned to passion and sometimes they fought just to make up, but lately that fuse was stuck on rage and Harry had taken to sleeping on the couch. This had led to many restless nights. Harry shook his head again.

“No. I fucked up at work.” Harry glanced down at the calculations written across the pages in his notebook again. It was so obvious now, a glaring mistake that he should have never missed. He pounded the shot of Jack and pushed the empty glass towards George, nodding his head for another.

“Well, that’s not the end of the world. I’m sure when you go back in the office tomorrow, it won’t be as bad as it seems now.” George set another tumbler full of Jack in front of him.

Harry made a pained face and grabbed his drink. “I’m not so sure about that. I don’t think I’ll be going back tomorrow.”

“Did they fire you? Well, fuck ‘em. A guy with book smarts like you won’t have any trouble finding something else. Here, this round’s on me.” George set another shot of Jack in front of Harry.

“Cheers, man,” Harry said as he quickly threw it back. Harry wasn’t normally a heavy drinker and the copious amount of Jack he had put away had left him feeling warm and buzzed. Harry reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bundle of bills he’d taken out from the bank earlier today. He stood up and threw it on the bar. Pocketing his notebook, he turned to George and said, “Thanks for always putting up with my bullshit. Keep the change.”

George grabbed the stack of money, and seeing what the band wrapped around it said, started shaking his head violently. “Harry, what the fuck? This is $20,000! If you lost your job today, you’re going to need this. You’re not planning to off yourself, are you?”

Harry backed away from the bar. “No, I’m not going to kill myself. Don’t worry, man. I already know what comes next for me. Thanks for everything.” And with that, Harry walked out the door before George could protest any further.

Leaving his car parked on the street in front of the bar, Harry began the long walk home. He looked up as the sun began to set, every color of the rainbow staining the sky like a masterpiece he felt he had never truly appreciated until now. Taking a deep breath, he savored the feel of fresh air inflating his lungs. Harry started to hurry. Time was short and he wanted to get home and enjoy it with Missy. Once he told her about his mistake at work and what it meant, he was sure their previous quarrel would be forgotten.

As Harry made his way home, he pulled out the notebook again. Looking at the page that was the cause of all of his current problems, he just couldn’t believe that one miscalculation, one misplaced decimal point, could really lead to Armageddon. But sometimes life lessons were not only harsh, they were fatal. Failing to calculate the trajectory of the meteor correctly because he misplaced a goddamn decimal point and causing the actual end of the world was some kind of cruel joke. Harry picked up his pace. There were precious few hours left and he planned to watch the world end in the arms of the woman he loved.