The empty nightclub: Reliving a Saturday night out

The bar counter was still there.

Kept literally intact through time, if it wasn’t for the dust layer on it, you would believe that the nightclub itself was ready to open its doors for the night.

But there were not any club owners or managers and staff to do that.

The previously vibrant nightclub was now empty as a grave, and with its death, fond memories of a hugely entertaining past had also died with it.

The number of people who had even a fleeting memory of the place kept decreasing with time.

After all, who would be willing to remember having a good Saturday night out at the club, after more than two decades had passed from that night?

Rightfully so, because most of them were now in the fifth or sixth decade of their lives, had family and children, and there was very little left on them to remind of those late-night revelers of the 90s that they once were.

But, hold on, what’s that?

A shadow gradually materialized before his eyes.

He tried to look at another direction, hoping that the shadow would eventually go away; he must have imagined it.

In disbelief, when he looked back at the bar counter, not only was the shadow there, but it had also become more solid.

Looking better at the figure, he made an astonishing discovery: it was the same barwoman who used to serve him the days that the nightclub was still open!

“What can I get you?”

It was as if not a single day had passed, but those days had gone, and gone for good.

He didn’t know what to answer her.

“Excuse me, what can I get you, sir? Please, make up your mind, because there are people waiting to be served.”

He looked around, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

The language and tone of her voice sounded so familiar though; he felt like reliving a Saturday night at the club in the late 90s.

“I’d like a Bud, please”, he ordered.

“Sure”, she replied.

Out of nowhere, she got a bottle of Bud, opened it, and put it on the counter for him to drink.

“One pound, please”, she said.

“Here you are”, he gave her the money.

He remembered that, back in the day, the owner of the club ran several drink promotions to attract bigger crowds, and selling a bottle of Bud for a pound was one of them.

This memory made him smile, comparing to how much he would have to pay for beer now.

“Why is the place so quiet?”, he asked her.

“It’s too early yet. It will be fully packed any time now”.

However, he knew that it was not going to be fully packed any time soon...