A letter on a neon sign sputtered and died as it the sign tried to display the message, "OPEN," to its night visitors. Nevertheless, it got the message across, even if it DID only say "OPE" or "PEN". The tavern relied on the fact that travelers and frequent visitors weren't complete idiots. Fortunately for them, they were right most of the time. It was the only tavern in town, and every night there was a ruckus. It never mattered if there was a special occasion or if people just felt the need to drown their miseries in a bottle; there were plenty of customers each night to keep the tavern open.
Nix knew that, but the appearance of the bar gave the appearance of a dump. He vowed never to let his associate ever pick the location again. Though it was not particularly cold at that time, he shivered for an unknown reason. "Stupid misgivings and premonitions," he muttered, hopping over the broken and splintered stairs, carefully avoiding stepping on the heaps of trash on the porch and striding through the doorless doorway. If the rotten condition of the entryway was any indication as to the interior, he was less than thrilled to see what was to come.
He tried not to pay too much attention to what the tavern looked like; he figured it would only give him a condescending air and snobby attitude. His vision allowed him to focus solely on his associate. He walked briskly over and sat down. "Helluva place you picked, Zeph."
Zeph glanced behind him to make sure it was Nix. Upon confirmation, he smiled and swung his chair around. "I figured you'd think that. Have a drink, my friend. What would you like?"
Nix raised his eyes slightly. "Ehh...I'll just take what you're having. It looks diluted enough to not have much alcohol in it." He shifted uncomfortably.
Zeph smiled a bit at the comment, but caught the bartender's eye, pointed to his own drink and said, "One more." The bartender nodded and got a glass out. Turning back to Nix, Zeph looked questioning. "Nix, why so concerned about the strength of the drink? You seem a bit afraid of letting your guard down."
Nix looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "You're drinking the same thing! And you're jesting at me?"
Zeph smiled. "I've already had three of 'em. And I'm going for an even six. I'll finish that many in the time it'll take you to finish half of your drink. Seriously, what's your deal with always being on your guard?"
Nix really didn't understand where it was going. He didn't know whether this was a serious conversation or a jesting match of witty retorts between friends. "Alcohol doesn't do the body any good. Euphoria's overhyped, anyway. I'd rather be able to stand my ground in a brawl that might break out than sing, pass out and lose a couple teeth. I'm stupid enough as it is; do I need alcohol to enforce that and make it more apparent?"
His companion now looked concerned. "What's this? Self-esteem problems? What makes you think you're stupid?'"
Nix snatched the drink from the hostess. He took a quick swig of it and grimaced before continuing. "Because I'm human. What're you gonna do? Humans are stupid and arrogant. No exceptions. And I despise it. Inebriates only enforce my beliefs on this, and so don't even bother."
Zeph silenced him with two raised fingers, a stern look now appearing on his face. "Whoa now, Nix. I'm not drunk yet. You've got a good five minutes before that happens, so spit it out. You seem like a nice enough person. You do kind things that I'd never consider doing. Yet you don't seem gratified after doing them. Why? What're your feelings toward all of this stuff?" He downed his fourth drink quickly before he shrugged his shoulders with an implied, "Well?"
Nix laughed. "Kind of strange to have a conversation of such seriousness in a bar. The least you could have done was found an extravagant night club."
"Don't get smart. Start talkin'."
Sighing, he talked with resignation. "Not many humans act out of the pure intention of only doing good. Most of us, whether we know it or not, act based on our own selfish desires or psychological needs. Why do I act tough? It's only to feed my need for acceptance. Why am I nice? Because I hope people will acknowledge my acts in return. It all returns to what I stand to gain from it all. And I hate the fact that I act out of those impulses. Is that such a bad thing, to hate my selfishness?"
Zeph stared intently at Nix, who was now holding his head in his hand, brow furrowed, staring at the table. "Well, what the heck will you do, then? Give it up? You're gonna stop doing good things because you think you're doing it only because you have something to gain? What about the others who benefit from what you do? Isn't it worth feeling a pang of guilt for only easing your own conscience when you give a small child on the streets some money and food? The fact you don't like the subconscious and basic human need for acceptance shows some high morals, my friend, but don't stop showing kindness just because you stand something to gain. And remember..." he suddenly lost focus. Nix could tell the alcohol was setting in. The waitress walked by. "Hey, you're pretty..."
Nix got fairly upset that his friend was losing contact with sharp reality. "Hey Zeph, mind paying attention here?" he asked irritably.
Zeph stopped staring at the waitress and turned his attention back to his friend, though the alcohol was definitely showing in his expression and mannerism. "Huh? Oh...yeah. Well, secondly...whaddaya expect from humanity? Ya know we're not God or perfect, or anything, right? So why expect more outta yourself?" Nix downed his drink in his next swig. He got up. "I refuse to take the advice of a drunkard. You logic is impaired and I don't want to base my philosophy on it!"
As he stormed out of the building with a feeling of anger, Zeph shouted after him, "You're an arrogant swine who can't admit his imperfection, you know that?!"