It was one of those rare evenings where Scoots went down early and her mom was spending the evening at home nursing a backache so I took the occasion to visit my favored drinking establishment. I inhaled cool nighttime air and looked up at the sign, carved with the image of a wooden tankard sprouting eight hideous legs. The Spider didn't have to work hard maintaining its reputation as preeminent dive bar in a village as small as Ponyville but it remained just shabby enough for my needs.
Ducking into the muted light I scanned the crowd. Thunderlane was regrettably absent and I didn't really have too many other drinking buddies so I slid into a stool at the bar.
Reaching for the bar nuts a familiar voice addressed me. "Hey, Marty."
"Evening, Berry."
She ceased polishing glasses. "Funny, I was just thinking of you."
"Oh?"
"Stage was in here with her friends for a victory shot after the first evening show," I tensed every muscle in my face seeking to remain passive. "You two still differently-abled in love with each other?"
"Far as I know."
"But not together?" I nodded curtly. "What, do I need to write to Princess Mi Amore or something?"
"Don't really have a choice, Berry. What do you expect me to do, tilt again at that windmill and get dumped a third time? She didn't even bother the second time, just quit talking to me."
"Not moving on, either? I could set you up with my sister. Celestia knows she's perennially single."
"She's gonna be Scoot's teacher next year. I'd be one lucky pony but I don't want things to get weird. Besides, I've got The Plan."
Berry Punch gave me that look, the sanctimonious stare of boozy certitude. "Swallowtail, do you have any idea how many lonely mares come into my bar just wanting to talk to a poor excuse for a stallion like yourself? We outnumber you at least five to one."
I shrugged. I knew exactly what I needed to do to get my lover back but certain elements were out of my hooves.
I could feel her eyes on me but wouldn't give her the satisfaction of a stare down. Berry sighed and retrieved a tray. She set down upon it two glass tumblers and a large bottle of Sweet Apple Acres Special Reserve. That got my attention.
"Tell you what. This is on the house but you've gotta share it with a mare in pleasant conversation. Plan be damned."
I swallowed, conflicted between loyalty to my principles and my inability to keep the saliva behind my teeth. I mustered up my best game face and picked up the tray in my mouth. Scanning the tables I made my choice.
Sitting in her own was a light brown earth pony mare with chocolate colored mane and tale so astonishingly frizzy she put Pinkie Pie to shame. I walked over and set my bounty down.
"Uh, hi." She looked up over her glasses. The only sign that my appearance broke her complete indifference was the pencil she held in her lips raised up quizzically. "Name's Martin... See the bartender over there? She doesn't approve of my lifestyle and challenged me to share this bottle of fine cider with a lady. I have no ulterior motives besides enjoying it with ya, if that's fine with you?"
Her blue eyes drifted over to Berry Punch, then to the bottle. No doubt she was doing the same risk/benefit analysis as I a few minutes ago. Finally she inspected a glass, made sure the bottle was still sealed, and poured for herself. I smiled and followed suit.
She spit the pencil out (it thumped down on a notebook filled with scribbled text, crossed out worlds and editorial arrows) and took a sip. "So what's the bartender's problem, got something against colt cuddlers or something?"
"Nothing like that," I sniffed my drink and took a swig. "She disagrees with my choice to remain single."
"Brought on by?..."
"I'm still in love with my ex-special somepony."
"They still love you?"
"Yeah, but circumstances keep us apart." I swished the amber liquid and drained my glass.
"Why me? This some kind of dumb bet to get the ugliest date?"
"Hardly." I chuckled. She had a slightly prominent muzzle for a mare but no glaring flaws. Looking closer I realized her massive grape bunches of curls disguised her age. I must have had a decade on her. "You seemed like the only pony less interested in romance than I. Besides, I like to smoke when I drink and that's obviously not an issue." I motioned to the pregnant ashtray beside her.
She took this as a reminder to light up. "Plan on winning your true love back?" Slight acidic bent in her voice I noticed.
"Tried. Lots of messy stuff I need to change about my life first. Until then I've got a Plan," she gave me a sardonic look so I took it as an opportunity to elaborate. I was awfully fond of The Plan. "I'm sharing a bedroom with my daughter and she keeps me busy so there's little room for romance anyway. I'm just going to be single till I get her back, until I can actually have a marefriend. Since it feels like I'm a dateless teenager again I'm calling it 'Adolescence 2: The Celi-bation! You know, like a celebration of celibacy?"
She made the common smirk that is the precipitate of a bad pun, filled and slowly drained another glass. "I think your plan is bucking stupid. If it had a face it would be a bucking stupid ugly face and I'd say to it 'Get your stupid bucking ugly face out of here, because it's bucking stupid. And ugly.'"
I chuckled. "Don't hold back or anything."
"You're the one who wanted conversation. Can't I have my opinion? Look, you can't have it both ways. You hit the jackpot and found love," she twirled a hoof in the air and continued in a flat sarcasm, "Yeah, neigh, hooray. That's luckier than most of us. Either do whatever to win her back or resign yourself to loosing her and being single. Just don't make some cute bucking game out of it. Do you love this girl or do you just want a torrid love affair with your own misery? Don't do that, you'll go blind and grow fur on your hooves."
I worried on my lip then set fire to a cigarette. "So what's your story. What're you doing here?"
She brightened a bit as if glad to change topics. "Well see that hipster sack of crap over there? Once he's done diddling the mixer, he's gonna get on the mic, tell me how terrible my rhymes are and advise me to quit the rap game. Then I'm going to give a rebuttal about him being wrong in his opinion and how it is in fact him with weak skills."
I glanced over at the stallion on stage, decked out in an unseasonable scarf and cap. "Sounds like fun."
She shrugged. "Passes the time and its something to do." I realized despite her brusque demeanor she had a strange buzz to her voice and I couldn't wait to hear her sing.
We chatted a little about music while the bottle steadily was spent. I tried to be polite and friendly while she maintained a detached sarcasm. I realized I was enjoying myself and Berry was likely correct, lousy lush.
"Hey gotta go. Thanks for the bet drinks or whatever."
"No problem. Own that poser."
"That's my friend you're talking about, dick. Oh, try not to be such a sad sack. It kinda makes me want to vomit and it'll spoil all the cider."
"Will do." I gave her a wave before I turned to give the tray back to Berry Punch and she flashed me a hideous watery-eyed frown that I assume was her sad sack face.
I set the tray down at the bar and gave Berry a smug look. "Boom! There you go."
"I dunno, Marty," she rubbed her chin. "The bet was that you chat with a mare so I think you owe me for the bottle."
I shot her a glare. "Don't be a bigot, Berry. I know exactly what I was doing and I won the bet." I had to put up with enough prejudice at home. If Needles called me a 'spellbound firefly' once more I'll kick his teeth in. Why such a tribalist pegasus would move to an earth pony town was anypony's guess.
I saw that she had recoiled. I was more stern than I had intended. "Tell you what, let me buy a second one of those and I'll share it with you. Nopony is more single than you." I tried for charm.
"Please, Marty. You know I'm working..." But she retrieved fresh brew and glass just the same. We all knew Berry ran this bar for the same reason Pinkie Pie chose to settle in with the Cakes.
A few hours later I stumbled home, trying to quiet the dogs best I could. Too tired to brush I just gargled some mouthwash and chased it with three refills of Scootaloo's water bottle. I went over to her bedside to check on her. She was curled up in an orange and lavender ball. Her covers tossed about. Likely she'd wake me before Celestia brought the sun full of energy and wanting to play with daddy. I was reminded why I don't do this to myself very often. It's probably why I go all out when I do blow off steam.
But I threw off all maudlin feelings as I stroked her mane and put a blanket over her.
"Worth it."