This particular night of drinking with the guys was solid. Not amazing. Not life-changing. But solid.
Unfortunately, I had to pee.
I scootched out of my middle seat at the booth - y'know, that awkward little shuffle where everyone beside you has to get out first so you can escape. My body language was appropriately apologetic.
I emerged, crossed the crowded floor - busier than usual for Bar Louie's, I have to say - and made my way to the men's room.
I must've been halfway through with my business at the urinal when I heard the sound stop. It was immediate. That hum, that choir of voices outside the door... music, staccato conversations, shouting, 'hellos' and 'goodbyes' and nonsense - it was all gone.
I washed my hands and stepped back out onto the floor.
It was empty.
Completely fucking empty.
The drinks, the food, the scattered chairs and arrangements were still there, but the people? Nowhere to be found.
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My eyes turned to the glass windows of the bar. The streets outside - similarly bare. The sky - darker than usual, with just a tinge of a crimson-red peppered across.
I sensed someone near me.
Looking down the length of the bar, I noticed him. A bartender, turned away from me, meticulously cleaning a mug.
I walked towards him.
I was nearly beside him when I heard him say in a low voice, "Run. This is our chance."
He turned from me, headed towards a staff-only back-area, and motioned for me to follow. I did.
Almost immediately, we were hit with a long staircase leading down. Architecturally, it made no sense. It was right in the middle of the kitchen.
Why was it there? Where did it go?
"They'll be back soon," he said. "Please, follow me."
I backed away. This didn't feel right.
Hoping I could wish this strangeness away like a bad dream, I maneuvered across the empty floor yet again and returned to the men's room.
I turned on the tap, looked in the mirror, and prayed - fucking prayed - that the noise would come back.
And to my pleasant surprise, it did.
I exited the restroom, and Bar Louie was how I'd initially left it. Busy, alive, a crowd of conversations.
I returned to the booth. As I did, I noticed that the bartender I'd seen earlier had completely vanished.
I still hadn't fully digested what'd happened, but I think my friend could tell that something was up.
"That was a pretty long trip to the bathroom," he said.
"Yeah. Sorry. Had a bit of a mindfuck moment."
"It's all good," he said. "It's really, really good that you decided to stay."
"Sorry?"
It took me a beat to notice that everyone in the bar was turned towards me, with dead smiles and eager eyes.