Storytellers

The third time I looked at my phone, there were 7 seconds left at 12 o'clock in the morning. That's just right, because this old stereo takes at least 5 seconds to react.

And now I pressed the broadcast button. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the seconds hand pointed exactly to 12 o'clock as the zitter's slightly stiff prelude floated.

Whe

eve

sa

g my so

gs.

(Whenever I sing this song)

O

the stage，o

my ow

.

(Alone on this stage)

The song is called "Eyes o."

me" is my favorite song, and I play it every day at midnight. I enjoy a ritual like this because it's one of the few freedoms I have.

Even though I'm the owner of this little bar, I can't just say I can just put what I want. The tastes of the guests are very different, and it is the safest way to operate according to the DY Divine Comedy Hot List to circulate.

It was only during these five minutes of midnight that I could appreciate the familiar melody. The soft string music expresses the delicate gentleness and slightly aggrieved strength unique to oriental women. I often think that this kind of woman should be the type of woman I need.

The employees never commented on it, and maybe they didn't like the song, but they couldn't argue with it. That's because the name of this bar is Eyeso

me, every day at midnight, I should always play the song of the same name.

Otherwise, our store is in this literary street, but there is really no special feature.

Whe

eve

said my wo

ds.

(Whenever I sing these words)

Wishi

g they would be hea

d.

(I hope you can listen to it)

Faye Wong's ethereal voice slowly wandered in the dim lights, filled with the smoke of jumping, and finally spread in the ears and temples of red men and green women. Uncle A on the small stage ended the performance, he nodded to the guests in thanks, and there was not a warm but lasting applause all around.

In the operation of the bar, 12 midnight is the dividing line between the upper and lower levels. Guests who need to leave will check out at this time, while those who stay will usually spend their time until 2 a.m. It's also a rare break for the resident singers and bar girls to return to the bar for a drink or a simple sitting.

Uncle A sat down in front of me, and I quietly poured him a cup of baby fat.

"Yo, the shopkeeper is so generous today?" He quipped, taking a sip to moisten his somewhat dull throat.

For the first three days, I poured him eight yuan a glass of cheap yellow beer. And today's cup is craft brewing, the price of our store is 30 yuan, and Tong Su is not deceived.

I'll admit that the dismal revenue of our store has made me very calculating. But now I have to be generous. Uncle A has brought me a lot of customers these days, and it stands to reason that I should fill him with a glass of good wine.

If someone had told me four days ago that my bar was going to blow up because of an unknown person, I wouldn't have believed it. Four days ago, Uncle A sat down at the bar at 5 p.m., and I was wiping my glass in annoyance.

I didn't greet him, because the person who came into the store at this point would definitely not be a customer. I just put down the cloth in my hand and looked at the stranger with displeasure.

"I have some stories." His voice was low and tinged with a strange charm, "Can you change the wine?" ”

Oh, 'I have a story, do you have wine', it's this literary chicken soup, right? I looked at him with some amusement. He must be about my age, about thirty-five. He was a little handsome, with a gentle smile in his eyes. His clothes were simple and decent, but they seemed to have accompanied him through an incomparably long journey.

If I had been a young boy and a recent graduate, I would have poured him a full bottle of wine and listened to the stories about distant places. It's just a pity that I'm just a businessman, an unsuccessful businessman, and I go between dunning bills every day. I don't want to listen to "poetry" and "distance" now, but if it is a story of "cost" and "profit", maybe I will be interested.

"I've got enough of it, as long as you're willing to pay." I replied coldly.

Uncle A burst out laughing.

"Boss, you're such a wonderful person."

I don't think it's funny, I'm picky because I'm really poor. Although being a boss looks glamorous on the surface, I really don't have anything left after paying my salary and utility rent every month.

"There are no new stories in this world, and if I want to hear a story, I can open my phone and read the headlines. Those shameless editors ask me for a thumbs up at most, not a real beer. ”

Because I was in a bad mood, my attitude was a little mean.

"You're right, the stories in this world are about the same, but the storytellers are different. Some people tell stories, which are only worth one like. And I tell the story, I assure you, it's definitely worth a beer. ”

Uncle A saw that I was unmoved, sighed, and threw out his wallet. I took a look, and it was empty. Looks like he's poorer than me.

"I saw the name of this bar, it was a song I liked very much, I thought ......" he pointed to the eyes on the door

me, a little regretful, got up, "Sorry to interrupt." ”

"Wait a minute." I bit my lip and an offer popped into my head, "If you're willing to stand on stage tonight and tell your story, and there are guests applauding, I can treat you to a drink." ”

Seeing that he was a little surprised, I added: "There is one more meal." ”

What changed my mind was not that Uncle A and I liked the same song, but for a practical reason. Five minutes before Uncle A walked through the door, I chased Tony away.

Tony wasn't a barber, he was my resident singer, a terrible and arrogant goof. The only reason I asked him was that he was cheap enough, only a hundred dollars a day. The only reason he's willing to do it here is because it's convenient to sleep with those heartless girls. Well, what does that have to do with me, everyone takes what they need.

He had a showdown with me in the afternoon, and the appearance fee rose to three hundred, or Sister B was willing to sleep with him. He said, Sister B listens to you for everything. I said to him, "Go and die."

I really don't want to see Tony again.

Uncle A's story, maybe the guests will be interested. Who says bars can only sing, not tell stories? As long as the guests are happy, what difference does it make if it is Tony or Uncle A standing on the stage.

It's just a deal.

I saw you **ili

g at me.

(I see you smiling at me)

Was it

eal o

just my fa

tasy.

(It seems to be true, and it seems to be my hallucination)

It was a successful transaction.

To my surprise, Uncle A's typhoon was quite outstanding. His deep male voice contains a gentle humor. Even some boring plots, after his narration, can make the audience laugh.

Maybe he was originally a stand-up comedian.

I'm often drawn to the bizarre stories and let go of what I'm doing. Sometimes I have a vague feeling that behind those absurd stories, there is a certain restrained emotion, a certain calm—a peace that is incompatible with this bar, this people, this city, this world.

Even a vulgar businessman like me was impressed, let alone a guest who was already trying to kill time, and they were satisfied. No one knew his name, and the guests called him Uncle A.

Word of mouth, in four days, the flow of customers in our store is increasing day by day. Even today, there was an explosion for the first time since the opening. Uncle A's story is wonderful, but he is like a princess in One Thousand and One Nights, telling only one story a day. This whetted the appetite of the guests.

At this moment, Uncle A's story is over, but the drinkers are reluctant to leave. Everyone is looking forward to it, hoping that Uncle A can return.

I had a hunch that this was a rare opportunity on my entrepreneurial path and I had to seize it. Fortunately, I was prepared, and I gave Sister B a look. She understood and gave me a "reassuring" mouthfeel.

She held a beer glass and a cute and flattering smile on her face, and came to Uncle A's side.

"Uncle A, can you tell another story, okay?"

You'd always be the

e i

the co

e

.

You're always going to stay in that corner

Of this ti

y little ba

.

In this little bar

Sister B is the bar girl of our store.,It's the kind of soft girl who dresses coolly.,Show off your thin waist.,Sell beer to customers.。 If there are high rollers who spend a lot, you can also ask the little sister to sit down and have a drink together.

She is gentle and cute, her appearance belongs to the kind of sweetness of a straight man, everyone likes her, and Tony is dead set on her. It has been more than three years since it opened, and the bar girls in our store have changed one after another, and they will waste their youth because they come to this happy place for fun, and then they will be attracted by more interesting things and get up and leave.

Only Sister B stayed.

Once, I asked her why she was here. I drove for a very low salary and didn't even buy insurance.

"I always felt like I was waiting for someone." "It's only when I'm here that I feel at ease." ”

When I go back to the rental room alone after closing every day, I hope that it is me who is waiting for Sister B. If I were ten years younger and have a house, I would propose to her. But it was clearly no one here who was waiting, not me, not Tony, not the high-rollers who were spending all their bucks.

I handed over the responsibility of hooking up with Uncle A's return to Sister B. I sincerely told her that if the business improves, I will help her buy five insurances and one housing fund.

I'm not worried that Sister B will refuse this offer, because when Uncle A appeared on the first day, Sister B told me with a twinkle in her eyes.

"He seems to be the one I've been waiting for!"

It turned out that she liked this genre, and I was somewhat disappointed.

So let me come to you.

Keep me close to you

Close as I wa

a be

Close enough

Close e

ough fo

me.

Close to me

To feel you

hea

t beati

g fast.

I can hear your heart pounding

The ethereal singing continued, and the guitar chords sounded again.

"Uncle, I really want to hear you say one more, please, another one!"

She begged Uncle A in a swishing voice, but it wasn't enough, she even hugged Uncle A's arm and rubbed it around. This made me a little confused, and if she had worked so hard when she was working, the business of the store would not have been so dismal.

Uncle A smiled helplessly and embarrassedly, and he looked at me with some mockery, as if he had already seen through this little trap. However, he didn't push away Sister B, no old man would bear to push away such a beautiful girl and refuse such a small request.

In the end, he had to raise his hands in surrender.

"Okay, one more one." Uncle A pulled his arm out of Sister B's arms, "You can at least wait for me to finish this cup." ”

"Okay!!"

The eagerly awaited drinkers cheered, and Sister B secretly made a triumphant gesture to me, and it seemed that she was really happy.

Uncle A drank the wine in one gulp, took out the tarot card from his bosom and put it on the table.

"You draw cards." He said to Sister B.

This is one of Uncle A's storytelling, he doesn't tell a story that is arranged, or a story that the guest asks. At each opening, he picks one lucky winner and draws one of the tarot cards.

Uncle A will explain what the card means before starting the story behind the card.

I thought about it for a long time and decided it was a good trick. Tarot cards represent mystery. Allowing guests to draw their own cards, as if they were personally involved in this mysterious ritual, will greatly increase the sense of participation.

It seems that Uncle A's talk show business is also quite competitive.

Sister B obviously didn't think as far as I did, and she was attracted by the pattern on the back of the tarot card.

"Can you smoke anything?" She asked.

"Of course." Uncle A replied.

Sister B stretched out her hand, but retracted it again.

"Wait a minute." She said, "What if I draw a chariot, I don't want to hear it again tonight." ”

She doesn't hate chariot stories, but she doesn't like the main characters in chariots.

"Don't worry, you will never be able to draw the story that has been told." Uncle A laughed and pushed the empty wine glass in front of me.

You guy, you'll pick a good time to pit me for drinking!

I absentmindedly poured wine for Uncle A.

"Draw one!" I motioned to Sister B not to hesitate any longer.

"But I want to draw the Tower, that's my natal card, and I want to hear the story of the Tower."

Sister B frowned, ha, no matter what kind of woman, she likes to inch in.

"Tower isn't a good card, and it's not a good story." Although Uncle A's voice was still gentle, I seemed to feel a hint of coldness in it, "Don't waste time, no one can take the tower from me." ”

Da

li

g，so sha

e with me.

Dear, if love is deep enough

You

love if you have e

ough.

Just share it with me

You

tea

s if you'

e holdi

g back.

Those tears and pain that were held back

O

pai

if that's what it is.

Let me share the burden, too

Sister B raised her head and stared at Uncle A's eyes, her lips pursed tightly. Probably as beautiful as her, it is the first time in her life that she has been rejected by the opposite sex so mercilessly. She was a little unconvinced, and a little incredulous.

"Hmph, who said that?"

Sister B's eyes lit up, she did what she said, and directly grabbed all the tarot cards on the table in her hand.

"How's that!" She shook the cards in her hand triumphantly to Uncle A, "You don't have a rule that you can only draw one, and now I have won the tower." ”

I glanced at Uncle A and saw that his face was cloudy. Four days ago, I could have mocked him harshly, but now I have to please him. I rely on him for my turnover, and I don't want to mess it up.

"Don't make a fuss!" I hurriedly scolded Sister B, "Put the card down." ”

"Leave me alone!"

I didn't expect that Sister B would directly slap my hand away.

"You don't just have to talk about the Tower." Sister B spread out the cards in her hand on the bar, "And every story has to be told to me!" ”

I've never seen Sister B so willful, she always listens to me. Her cheeks were crimson, perhaps from having drunk too much.

"Don't listen to her, just say anything." I hurriedly turned around to appease Uncle A, "The guests are all ......"

When I saw Uncle A, I couldn't talk anymore.

"The Fool... Lover... Justice...", he read the card order on the table carefully, and his face flashed with heaven and hell for a moment.

"I see......" he muttered to himself.

Sister B was probably also frightened, and she suddenly came to her senses.

"I'm sorry, I'm kidding......" Her voice trembled a little, and she reached out to return the card to Uncle A.

"It's okay."

Uncle A held her hand, he looked up at her, and smiled. I never believed that a man could smile so well. His face was clean, as if he had been born as such, and had never changed.

"I'll tell all the story." Uncle A pointed to the tarot cards spread out, and suddenly became a little narrow, "But you have to agree to my request." ”

Sister B tried her best, but found that she couldn't withdraw her hand at all.

"What requirements?" She asked, a little timidly.

"Let me kiss you."

Uncle A stared at her with a smile in his eyes.

Da

li

g，so the

e you a

e.

Dear, you are right there

With that look o

you

face.

With that kind of look

As if you'

e

eve

hu

t.

It's like never getting hurt

As if you'

e

eve

dow

.

It's like never falling

Well, it seems that we all underestimate Uncle A. People who have seen poetry and distant places will never be herbivores.

The whole bar was boiling.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! ”

The drinkers were in a commotion.

Sister B frowned and twisted her body with an exaggerated amplitude, and she seemed to have made a lot of effort to break free from Uncle A's hand. I knew it was all just pretense, she was just shy.

Tony used to hold her hand like this, and the next second he was kneeling on the ground with his lower body covered. I don't think there's really a way for Sister B to refuse this kiss.

She didn't refuse in the end, and closed her eyes appointedly amid the heckling of the drinkers. It's just that the shallow smile at the corner of his mouth can't hide it.

Shall I be the o

e fo

you？

Can I be that person?

Who pi

ches you softly but su

e.

The one who screws you gently but firmly

If f

ow

is show

the

.

If you frown

I'll k

ow that you'

e

ot d

eami

g.

You and I will know that none of this is a dream.

This must be the lightest kiss in the world, so soft that it seems to wake up the princess in a light sleep, so soft that Sister B has ended without any feeling. The melon-eating guests made a noise of dissatisfaction, and everyone preferred to see a romantic French long kiss.

Uncle A smiled gently at everyone, and he shook the cards in his hand, signaling that the wonderful story was about to begin. Infected by him, the guests quieted down and watched with anticipation as Uncle A slowly walked onto the small stage.

I looked at Sister B with some concern, her eyes were full of tears. I suddenly felt a little guilty, maybe she wasn't so willing to accept the kiss, maybe I shouldn't have ordered my best employees to sell their hues in exchange for a small amount of turnover.

"Sorry" I was a little overwhelmed, "I don't know......"

"Don't worry, I'm happy." Sister B didn't look at me, her eyes looked at the man on the stage tightly, and she didn't want to move away for a second, "It's just that for some reason, the tears can't stop flowing." ”

The volt line of the melody finally came to an end, and the crowd in the audience faded like a song, peeling off the sound and color. Time gradually regressed, retreated to the ignorant streamer phantom, and retreated to the leisurely years.

On the stage, Uncle A snapped his fingers, and a tarot card popped up from his fingertips.

"The first card, the Fool, represents a new beginning, the initial and the final, all possibilities, this is the meaning of the Fool's card. Here's our story.

One day, Hao Yun had a dream......"