Free Hugs

Jade was younger than the usual customer. But Sam was past being too concerned. About ten years past. Maybe if she’d walked in even two years ago, he’d have cocked an eyebrow. But now? Now, he simply grabbed a shot glass, and placed it on a napkin in front of her as she took a seat on one of the barstools.

“What’ll you have?” he asked.

She seemed startled as she looked up at him, long black curls framing her captivatingly anguished face.

“Uh… isn’t there a menu?”

Sam all but cackled. “A MENU? Sorry, sweetheart. Most people know what they want before they walk in.”

“Oh.”

Jade glanced back over her shoulder towards the door, as if she were thinking of leaving. Sam knew better, though. He’d seen the reluctance in all of his first time customers, and he knew the reason why.

“Free Hugs get you?” he asked her.

She turned sharply back to him. “What?”

He gestured towards the door, though the object of his comment was the man sitting on the pavement just outside. He was scruffy and plain, with a full beard and shoulder length hair he mostly kept tucked under a beanie. And he sat right next to the entrance with a cardboard sign that said FREE HUGS.

“Did you talk to Free Hugs?” he asked again.

“Oh. Yeah. He uh…” she hesitated. “He said you couldn’t help me.”

He nodded. “That sounds right. What else?”

“That this place was just another step down?” she added, still wary.

“Huh. Step down. That’s a new one,” he admitted. “Usually we’re a trap, or just another problem.”

At this, her eyes widened. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?”

“You’re not worried he will stop people from coming in?”

“Didn’t stop you, now did he?” Sam pointed out. “If you’d like a free hug instead of a drink, be my guest.”

She got a little defensive at that. Sam didn’t know why. It’s not like she came for a good time, or to pick someone up. No. People only came because something drove them. Drove them to the padded stools, the polished bar top, and the row of bottles glittering behind him.

“Look, it’s your first time, right?” he tried. She nodded, tentatively. “Well then, how about…”

He ran his hand along the lowest row till he came to the right bottle– amber glass, with a black label, and golden ink. Sam grabbed its neck, and turned the label so Jade could see it.

“Forgetting?” she read aloud. Her brow furrowed for a moment, and then she nodded. “Yeah. Actually, that sounds good.”

Sam grinned. He still had the touch. He opened the bottle and poured the thin, bittersweet liquid into the shot glass in front of her, stopping a half inch below the lip.

She stared at it, as if the longer she looked she might perceive something.

“Go ahead,” Sam prodded. 

She still hesitated. 

“Well? What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip. “He also said it wouldn’t last.”

“Nothing lasts,” Sam countered. That was a common complaint. But quickly remedied. One shot wouldn’t last forever, but then, there could be a second shot. And a third. A fourth. However many they needed to keep it going. It wasn’t like he could run out of bottles.

“But you just need a moment, right? I mean, you don’t wanna forget FOREVER,” he laughed, making a grandiose gesture to accentuate the word. 

Jade laughed too, and finally picked up the glass and gave the contents a sip. Her dark lipstick left a stain on the rim. Sam sighed. Now he’d have to really scrub the glass out. Her face grimaced a moment as she swallowed. 

“That’s…” It always tasted a bit strong going down. But the aftertaste was what made it worth the chug. Sweet. Warm. Embracing. Sam figured it must have hit her senses pretty quickly, because she upended the glass right after.

“There, now,” Sam gave her a gentle round of applause. “Better?”

She nodded. “Better. Is this your best seller?”

Sam nodded. “One of them. But it can be a bit mild for some.”

“What else do you recommend?” she asked.

“Courage is a favorite,” he spoke up. Sam poured out Courage every night. His vintage had such a fleeting effect, people came in day after day, sometimes hour after hour, just for a shot.

“Now on the top shelf? There we have Oblivion,” he told her, turning to grab a dark bottle that seemed filled with starlight. “Goes down smooth… Pricey, but worth it, I assure you.”

“I don’t think I need anything THAT strong,” she replied.

Sam didn’t remark. They all said that. No one came in and ordered Oblivion the first day. That was a slow sell up. Once the Forgetting began to lose effect, and the Momentary High or Indulgence wore itself out in their system, Oblivion was the only thing left. And by then, they were eager for it. The cost didn’t matter. Just that beautiful moment when their lips drained the glass.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

Sam crossed over to the register, and Jade slid off the stool, following him. It only took a moment before her total appeared on the screen.

SELF LOVE.

She blinked a moment, but then sighed, and handed him a card from her wallet. Sam swiped it, and watched her shudder as he handed it back.

“Have a nice day,” he muttered as he hurried off to scoop up the glass. Sam didn’t have to pride himself on a nuanced exit. Once they’d had a taste, he knew they’d be back.

She nodded, and gave him a weak smile, then pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Free Hugs was sitting right where she left him. He smiled up at her as he waved, his open palm revealing a scar in its center. She eyed his sign once more. Already the warmth that had filled her was leaving, but she couldn’t afford another drink. Not today, anyway.

“I told you it wouldn’t last,” he said, quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

She swallowed. “I know.”

There was something so compassionate in his gaze. “We don’t want to forget. Not really,” he said. “We only want to forget because we feel like no one sees us. And that’s the worst kind of lonely.”

“So how do you fix it, huh? You think you can just GIVE what we can’t apparently even BUY?”

“Yes. I can,” he assured her. “I can see you. We can share a space together. Even if it's just for a moment. And then, we can talk. And you can get to know me. And I can get to know you.”

“That might take a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Jade just stared at him. Maybe he wasn’t going anywhere, but she had places to be, and things to do… didn’t she? Her eyes drifted through the window into the bar, and back to him.

“Eventually, it stops working at all,” he continued, gently.

“Maybe so,” she admitted. “But I have to try.”

She took a few steps away, then stopped, and turned back to him. It seemed his eyes hadn’t left her. 

“When it stops working… you’ll still be here?”

“Every day,” he said, promise lacing itself through the words. He pointed once more to the sign. “Free hugs.”