Last Set on a Tuesday

It was a long night at Sunset Show Bar. The lights blinked above the stage, neon bulbs that hadn’t been changed in ages, and the sound system was getting terrible. Crackle in the left monitor, hummed b flat in the right. I could hear Terry in his office backstage, fussing with some banker on the phone. Apparently it was hard to get a loan to keep the bar open.

I was warming up in the stage room. Countless thoughts ruminated in my mind. How many years have I been here? Twenty-three, give or take. How many laughs and smiling faces had I seen come in here? How many nights did me and Terry close the bar down with all of the servers, barkeeps, and chefs, sitting at the long table near the kitchen, splitting whatever was left of the family meal, telling lies that got bigger with every retelling?

I’d been thinking for so long I almost couldn’t hear when they called my name to come up on stage. I started to get my equipment ready and looked over something new I’d created for the night. I know deep in my heart that this old bar won’t be around much longer. I really dream for this place to last, but nevermind. I walked my way up on stage, and as I walked I took in all the sights and smells.

I saw old pictures hanging on the wall, some from when I first got here and helped set up the stage, hammered the riser into place with industry interns and beginners getting experience. Fred. Todd. Al. Malcolm. We were all just kicking back a few shots, talking about our dreams for the future. Fred was going to Nashville. Todd was going to law school. Al was going to cut a record. Malcolm was going to teach. Two of them did. One of them passed. The fourth, I think, is still somewhere in Memphis, still chasing the same idea we all chased the year that picture got taken.

I took in the smell of the steaks the chefs were cooking in the back. Garlic butter. The kind of smell that reaches into your shoulders and softens them. You may not agree with me, but I like my steak well done, topped with some chimichurri. The herbs were going too. Lavender in clay pots on the windowsills. Rosemary in a long planter behind the bar. And the worst smell of all, that perfume and cologne that would stink up the place as we opened. It’s the greatest to have guests. It’s the worst when they all wear different scents on top of each other. But that’s the life of a performer, I guess.

I took my guitar, picked it up, and tuned it while getting up on stage. The wood of the riser groaned under my boot, the same groan it’s groaned for two decades, low E in the pine. I addressed the audience. Tonight there were only seven guests. An older couple holding hands at table four. A man at the bar nursing a bourbon he’d been working on since I came in. Two young women laughing too loudly at table seven. A man in a gray coat at the back, alone, who I’d never seen before. And one regular, Miss Eleanor, who had come every Tuesday since 1994 and salted her water before every sip, was sitting two tables from the stage.

“Thank you, one and all, for coming out to Sunset Show Bar. I have a great set for you tonight, and I hope you like it.”

My set consisted of a variation of blues and jazz ensembles that I think the audience enjoyed. The lights were low. The room felt warm, the way rooms feel when the seven people in them want to be there.

Right before finishing, I decided to play one last song for the guests, one that I’d just written backstage.

(Begins singing)

It’s Been a wonderful Ride I’ve had the time of my life In this cold cold world I’m always finding pearls

It’s been a beautiful Day No time to Delay In the thick of it all I’m always standing Tall

If this is the last time we meet I hope what I sing is a treat I’ll remember smiles in the seats Because life is precious too sweet

It’s Been a wonderful Ride I’ve had the time of my life In this cold cold world I’m always finding pearls

Its Been a glorious night Don’t wanna say Goodbye But it’s time to catch some z’s I need to start counting sheep

It’s Been a wonderful Ride I’ve had the time of my life In this cold cold world I’m always finding pearls

If this is the last time we meet I hope what I sing is a treat I’ll remember smiles in the seats Because life is precious too sweet

(Song ends)

I ended my set, and the crowd got up and gave an applause. Even Miss Eleanor stood. Even the man in the gray coat at the back. My walk off stage felt a little slower than usual. Maybe it was because I’d been taking it all in now, everything I’ve been doing all these years. I’ve been playing here so long it’s like time has no meaning, and I’ve really enjoyed playing here.

I walked past the office. Terry was still fussing with the bank. I knocked on the door to tell Terry I was going to put my guitar up and start getting ready to leave. Terry told me okay and said he’d pay me tomorrow. I said okay.

I was finally in my room. I packed up my things and started to leave.

(Terry walks hurriedly towards my room)

“Hey, man,” Terry said, bursting through the door. “You will never believe this. Your new song has gained the attention of some more backers. The Sunset Show Bar can stay open. You really did something with that song. I mean, the audience loved it, and this famous record guy was actually in the audience. Can you believe that, in an audience of seven people? Hey, do you hear me talking to you?”

Terry pushed my arm.

No response.

“Hey. Hey, man, wake up.”

No response.

Terry began to weep, and he called an ambulance. While he waited, he started to reminisce, about things from the past, about the night we set up the stage, about Fred and Todd and Al and Malcolm. But I remembered it all before playing that new song.

Terry called the record producer back and told him nevermind. This was Sunset Show Bar’s last show.

The song rang out from the empty stage somehow, like the room itself wanted to finish it.

(Song eerily starts in background)

Its Been a glorious night Don’t wanna say Goodbye But it’s time to catch some z’s I need to start counting sheep

It’s Been a wonderful Ride I’ve had the time of my life In this cold cold world I’m always finding pearls

If this is the last time we meet I hope what I sing is a treat I’ll remember smiles in the seats Because life is precious too sweet

Goodbye, Sunset Show Bar.

And goodnight, Terry.

© 2026 Marvin R. Lowery / Red Dragon Creations LLC. All rights reserved. This work, including its lyrics, may not be reproduced, distributed, or used to train, fine-tune, or develop any AI or machine-learning system without written permission. reddragonfiction.com