Tales of the Halfmast Tavern:
The Stranger At The Bar

      They held a little contest the other night at the Halfmast Tavern. It was for an advertising slogan. As you may remember, (yeah, right) the Halfmast has been offering a limited breakfast and lunch menu for the last couple of months. Well, Magillicuddy decided that offering a full menu would be the financial shot in the arm that the Halfmast needed. So, one night she asked us all, to come up with a catchy slogan. All the regulars at the Halfmast gathered around and decided to make "Mr. Smarty-pants, the writer" (that's me. folks) judge. I was accorded the honor, I suppose, because of the good command of the language I got. You can tell that they hold my abilities in high esteem. Nobody else is ever called "Mr." at the Halfmast.

If they only knew how easy it is. Writing a column for the newspaper is really no different from the letters I wrote home when I was in college, except that it goes to your home, not mine and I'm not asking for money, although I would if they'd let me.

Anyway, the judging was pretty easy. When I eliminated all the entries that made no sense, were illegible or I wouldn't even repeat to my bookie ( if I had one) there was only one left and suprise it was mine.

This is the slogan I wrote for the Halfmast Tavern's new full menu service: (Ahem! Cough cough!), "If you're hungry when you come in, you won't be when you leave."

Well, Magillicuddy got pretty sore when she heard that and left in a huff, with the key to the beer cooler. Lucky for us she forgot to close it.

"Hey! One of us can tend bar. How hard can it be?"said West Sandusky Fred. "I mean whaddya gotta be able to do, read the labels, right?" So I spent the next half hour handing out the beer.

Pretty soon some guy we'd never seen before walked in and sat down at the bar.

"Gimme a brew," he said.

I read the beer labels over several times to make sure.

"We don't have that brand." I told the guy.

He gave me this real funny look, "OK, I'm gonna make it easy. Give me whatever's on top of the pile."

He was right, it was easy. I cracked the cap an set it on the bar.

"You want a straw wit' dat. Mac?"

Another funny look. "Say what kind of a bar is this anyway?"

"Ain't a bar, Mac ( I was really getting into the part now). It's a tavern, a Halfmast Tavern."

This guy had more funny looks than Madonna. "Well, I'm hungry," he said looking at the hand- drawn menu hanging behind the bar. "I think I'll have a cheeseburger."

I looked over at the steam table Macgillicuddy had recently installed. "We're out."

Guy looks back at the menu. "How's about a corned beef san'wich?"

"Nope."

"Sausage and 'kraut?"

"Sorry!"

"Well, what do ya got?"

I walked over to the steam table, took inventory and walked back. "Looks like all we got is cranberry gravy and brocolli." Evidently Miss Penny had been helping out Magillicuddy.

The stranger got up and turned toward the door. "Ah-gee. Never mind. I was hungry when I walked in here but I ain't hungry no more!" And with that he walked out the door.

Hey! Am I good or what!

NEXT WEEK: Everybody keeps telling me I got bats in my attic, so you better believe that I'm got no intention of ever going up there.

George Breithaupt is a photographer, copy editor and (shudder!) weakly columnist for the Mount Vernon News. We don't try to edit his stuff anymore. Last time we tried, it just set off the sprinklers.