A Very Hum Bar Songkran
This is for @kpquickndirty, remix welcome.
This is ALSO for @songkranfest.
I've written this super-duper quickly, so it's probably a mess, but that's all part of the quickndirty fun. Inspiration from all over but mostly from here and here.
~~~
Porsche is up to something. Yok can always tell when Porsche is up to something.
“Only hand-sized water pistols are allowed inside the bar!” Ball shouts out as a small group enters. “You can leave your soakers in the bin by the door and collect them on the way out! Your first drink tonight comes with a free water pistol.”
Hum Bar is always a festive place, but it’s especially festive during Songkran. Yok has taken care to strew the place with fresh flowers, and she’s placed mats on the floor to prevent slipping, as patrons playfully squirt each other with small, brightly colored plastic water guns.
Everyone is smiling, and laughing, as it should always be in Hum Bar.
But Porsche… Porsche is far too quiet. He’s been whispering to the other bartenders whenever he thinks Yok isn’t watching, and his eyes shift nervously left and right.
He’s doing it again right now. He’s watching the door and muttering something to Jet behind his hand.
Then Tem comes in, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Now!” Porsche shouts. “Jom, get jae now!”
Yok’s first instinct is to brace herself to be soaked with water, but instead Jom, Porsche’s most precious and loyal friend, takes both of Yok’s wrists in his hands.
“Come with me, over here!” Jom says, and he guides her to the corner booth, where Tem has cleared space and is placing the flowers on the table.
Yok has an inkling of what’s going on now, and she wants no part of it. “Stop, stop at once!”
Porsche comes out from behind the bar, carrying a large silver bowl in his hands, full of water and flower petals.
“Hello, attention please!” Porsche calls out, and the din dies down as everyone turns heads to look at him. “Thank you, all of you, for joining us and celebrating Songkran with us! We’d now like to invite everyone to greet our senior, the wonderful, beautiful, talented, wise owner of this bar, Yok! She’s a little shy, but don’t let that stop you.”
Everyone laughs.
“I told you a million times, I am not an elder!” Yok objects. Porsche has tried to pull similar stunts before, one-on-one, in the back of Hum Bar or before a shift, but never in the middle of the night. Never before has he done it on this sort of scale, inviting all the guests to participate.
Sneaky, clever boy. It’s much harder for Yok to refuse, especially as the guests shout and encourage her to play along.
“Please, Yok?” Porsche asks. He approaches the table and sets the silver bowl in front of her, and Jet places the smaller one next to it. Then Porsche turns on the puppy eyes.
Yok feels her heart swell.
She’s objected for years, not feeling like it was her place, and also not wanting to feel old. But…
“Please?”
How can she say no?
“Oh, all right,” she relents, which causes everyone to cheer. “But let’s make this quick, so you all can get back to buying my booze, huh?” That earns her another laugh.
So, one by one, the patrons bow their heads to her, and they use the smaller bowl to respectfully run water over her hands until her fingers feel soft and tender. She gives each of them a word or two of advice while they listen with folded hands. Her words are pleasant little phrases that lift their hearts and make them smile.
The bartenders take their turns after the patrons. And of them, Porsche approaches her last. He holds her hands gently and looks up at her with something eager and desperate in his eyes, and Yok’s heart goes out to him.
After he washes her hands, she puts her soggy fingers on one of his cheeks.
“So naughty and stubborn,” she says, patting his cheek, and he has the grace to lower his eyes, even though he still smirks. “You finally found a way to make me cooperate, huh? After, what, four years?”
“Five,” he corrects.
“Cheeky,” Yok says.
“Do you have any words of wisdom for me, jae?”
What advice can she possibly give him? This boy has already been through things that Yok can hardly imagine. He’s practically a father to his brother, and he carries his family on his shoulders.
But still…
“You’re twenty-three now, aren’t you, Porsche?” she asks, and he nods, smiling. “Do this elder a favor and find someone who will fill your heart with joy and maybe look after you for a chance.”
At first, Porsche looks stunned. HIs face goes slack, like the possibility never even occurred to him. Then he grins and shakes his head.
“Aww, but flying solo is best way to—”
“Did I stutter?” Yok glares.
Porsche looks suitably terrified.
“No, ma’am.”
“Good.” Yok pulls out one of the water pistols she has tucked into the waistband of her skirt and aims it at Porsche. “Back to work with you.”
She pulls the trigger three times in rapid succession, and Porsche yelps.
