The Grim Reaper's Waltz
It was not long after the fighting started that a old man was sitting in the corner unfazed by the brawl. The majority of the patrons had taken up against each other in an impromptu riot/bar fight concerning a local sporting event. With a sizable melee forming amongst the tables and chairs alongside the bar, he sat there smiling and sipping a glass of wine. I had taken to hiding staying behind the bar. I was not about to get my teeth kicked in for seven bucks an hour plus tips.
I glanced away from him for less than a second before seeing him on the other side of the room. I watched him tap a rather surly looking biker on the shoulder right before a smaller man directly in front of the biker produced a knife and stabbed the much larger gentleman in the neck. The knife wielding maniac turned around to stab someone else in the back just as the man from the corner of the room slid his hand across the victims arm. The mysterious man still held his glass of wine as he reached in and lightly pushed the psycho with the knife into a chair on which he tripped and landed face first on his knife.
The police arrived and broke up the fight. The man who moved through the fight walked up to the bar and tried to pay his tab. He looked me in the eye and when I looked back it was like staring in a fire. He chuckled and left a hundred dollar bill on the bar before walking out. After squaring away his tab it was a thirty dollar tip. My brain stopped working for a second. Rather than take into account that this individual scared the bejeezus out of me. I rushed up to him and tried to offer him his change.
I caught up to him in the parking lot and tapped him on the shoulder.
He spun around and gave me a look that would've made me wet myself had I
any liquid in my bladder. I tried to form words and he simply smirked
before saying, “I don't collect you until November 11th, 2017. Then
again, a lot of people are gonna die that day.” I stammered out
something about change while he walked away laughing.