This is a true story...
You remember Garribaldi's? Yeah, the one on the edge of town where the old Route swung by? It was a great bar, that one was in its day. Then old Garribaldi sold up and went to that Franco who was the most depressing guy, ever. I mean you gotta ask, what was an Evangelical like him doing running a drinking establishment - the man positively sucked all the life out of the place. Oh, the vibe changed all right. It became a place for deadbeats and other loosers - Jackie, Big Bill and Frankenhair the Eighties Reject, you know. The people who went to drink away their lives and their pains. Not the place for you and me, brother.
Anyway, this story is from the last days of Garribaldi's - you know when it really went to shit and back. Franco was dying himself by then (poor guy) and had taken to brow beating his regulars with fire-and-brimstone sermons. Even his own Churchie crowd thought he had lost the plot.
Anyway, Franco got himself a new customer, see. Big guy - and I mean freakin' big. The guy was a giant: shuggy dark hair, hard face, dark eyes. Didn't say much. He was a construction worker; yeah thats right, one of the construction guys who worked on the industrial estate. So this guy walks into the bar. Doesn't say much, just asks for a beer and wind sup with a jug. He sits in a corner and has about four more jugs over the course of the night. He is one of the last to go home. Heck, Franco has to, like, sweep the guy out.
"Everyone has a home, son" says Franco. "Can't stay here. This is hell."
"Yeah... " the big guy rumbles. Takes a while. This guy is big as they come and thicker than a pile of rocks. Slow too, so they say (and I have this on good authority from Maverick who was a supervisor at the work site. What do you mean, the guy can't have been that dumb because he fixed the lintel over the entrence - friend, that sandstone was good; anyone saying it was flawed doesn't know nuttin' about rocks. Seriously if was as bad as the papers said it would have fallen down, right?)
So. A couple of nights later. The big guy comes back. This time he stays at the bar. Didn't speak to no one. Drank four jugs of the pale ale. No one noticed he was there. Next night, back again - only this time he is the only fucker game enough to sit at the bar all night because Franco was in a real mood see, and was a rantin' and a ravin' about the wages of sin. Awww, even Big Bill who laps that crap up stayed away after one (one!) drink! Everyone, save that big guy, who took it all in, front row seat. And he said nuttin'....
Few days later, big guy is back again. This time old Jackie tries it on. The big guy isn't impressed (who is, Jackie is waaay too old to be playing a young womans game like she does). But he doesn't tell her to piss off either. Instead - get this!- he buys her a drink and they spend the night talking! Well - Jackie opens her bleeding friggin' heart and gives him her life story (failed actress, failed model, failed mother, waaaagh!) And the big guy sits there and takes it! I mean, the guy was thicker than two bricks!
On that Friday, big guy comes back. All the regulars are there - you could feel the desperation. Franco didn't need to give another sermon but he does anyway (guy was a glutton for punishment). Anyway, on that night, the big guy gets in with Frankenhair the Eighties Reject. Frankenhair is way to happy to offload how his latest scheme has fallen apart leaving him further in debt. The big guys listens all night - but they actually got talking, as in the big guy got involved in the conversation. Well, Frankenhair obviously enjoyed the company because they were chatting into the early hours.
Franco had to virtually manhandle the pair out of the bar in the end! It was tough, the big guy being a giant and all. They were talking about how Frankenhair got swindled in that fucked up poker tournament. Somehow, Franco managed to convince them to leave, you know how he could be... he followed 'em out to the parking lot because they had continued their conversation there.
Now you remember how Franco never had those lights fixed in the parking lot. They kept flicking on and off, like - sometimes you could pick up a rhythm in the way they did that. It was just... creepy. Well get this. Franco was about to chase them off when he saw the big guy standing under one of those lights when it flicked on.
And the big guy wasn't even a guy. He was carved from stone, like, with long stringy moss for his hair and his beard. Froze old Franco dead in his tracks. Frankenhair didn't see shit (and I asked him). But the big guy saw Franco, and knew - he just knew. Big guy stares back at Franco as if to say "you gotta say somethin', say it!"
Franco goes for it! You ask Frankenhair if you don't believe me, Franco went very calm and -get this- asks the demon to leave forthwith. Went all biblical on the big guy who just stood there, blinking. Finally, the big guy just shrugs and says, "Okay. I'm done here, anyway". Turns around and walks away, leaving Frankenhair all alone with a tripping out Franco.
Weird huh. They say he and Franco started getting on after that. When Franco passed on, he gave Frankhenhair his diaries, and you know what that started, don't you?
This is a true story. I heard it from Frankenhair, Big Bill and Jackie. Figured out the rest myself, I did.
They still say that no one has fixed those lights in the old parking lot...