Welcome to the Shakers Bar!

Chances are you’ve seen this kind of bar before.

You’ve punched out from work and have to start the return home. Your back hurts, your eyes are sore and your feet are killing you! That throbbing on your lower back doesn’t help much either so you took a little tylenol after lunch break, but it didn’t do much. The doctor said you ought to avoid staring at a computer all day which was making your eyes go bad. And, to top it off, you might need orthopedic shoes because of that lingering ache in your right foot from all the walking you have to do.

You’re grumbling to yourself or to your coworkers about the long shift, the long hours crunching numbers, about missing out on your kid’s basketball game, and life as we know it keeps moving on. The world keeps spinning and tomorrow will bring the same thing again. Hopefully, we’ll be able to enjoy our retirement… as long as nothing goes wrong!

And so, as you’re heading home you’d notice this bar you’ve passed by a thousand times and notice something different. Something that maybe you found attractive this time. The windows facing the street show there’s a bit of people inside. You check the sign and notice it’s bright neon glow:

The Shakers Bar - it showed the classic “moving neon” of a bar shaker being shaken, it flickers from time to time due to its apparent age. Cute, if a bit cliché you might think.

Usually you wouldn’t stop by for a drink on your way back home. There might be a few chores you have to complete when you get there: laundry is a big one, making dinner is another, helping the kids with their homework and after all that, maybe catch a bit of the evening news. But this, you feel like you might’ve earned it. So you take a step forward and cross the threshold of the main entrance.

You don’t know what you were expecting, but as it turns out, this looks just like every other neighborhood bar you’ve seen before in movies and TV.

The moment you step inside you notice a loud cheer from your left. Noisy! These guys were watching a TV that was hanging by the wall opposite to them where the baseball game was going on. Oh yeah! Baseball season started recently! You recall one of your coworkers was boasting about his team making it to the World Series.

These sports fans ran the gamut: there were the young guys who were there just for the rowdy banter, there were the die-hard “old timers” who wore their teams’ apparel like a tuxedo, the casuals who simply watched to get their minds busy on something else and the commentators who always had an opinion about every play. The occasional cuss word slips here or there and it is quickly shut down by some of the ladies who also enjoy the game… even if some of them are the loudest!

College students, sports fans, blue collared workers… They were gathered for their unified worship to the “church of baseball”. Even one of the bartenders, a portly man with a loud voice, was in on the action, talking with a tough looking construction worker, having a back-and-forth discussion about “who’s the better pitcher?” Suddenly you realize that this must be a common occurrence.

As you scan the bar you’d be able to notice the “bar flies” sitting by the bar’s counter. Those guys who seem to live in the establishment and don’t seem to mind anybody’s business unless it’s a story or two. Some look like senior citizens with a look of solitude or detachment. The occasional approach of the portly bartender to ask if they needed anything would happen from time to time, just asking for another round of their drink.

What’s that smell? Oh… someone spilled their beer after the opposing team knocked a home run and fell on the floor. Peanuts and stale beer… always a “culinary treat”. But for some reason you also catch the scent of ink and cheap perfume.

Looking to your right, you might notice that there is a small group of patrons who don’t seem to “fit” the concept you had of a regular bar. These were a younger crowd of visitors, taking their places on one of the larger booths at the right side. These were the “geeks”, the “nerds”, the “otakus” and the “comic book enthusiasts”. They spoke of little else but their shared love for such things. An all-inclusive group of social “misfits” who found their place by embracing their passions.

You recall a few coworkers talking about the latest anime from renowned manga artist “Megu-chan”. Something about how she created a new character with a fierce look in her eyes and acting like a true queen. You might’ve given up on such interests a while back, but even you recall that one episode your friends told you about in elementary school where the good guy transformed and beat the crap out of the bad guy. Back then, you also thought it was “cool!”

Suddenly you catch a tune in the air. That song… it’s one of those songs you’re sure you’ve heard before but you can’t quite name it. It’s catchy, has a good beat and has a story. What was it again?

At the end of the bar, is a makeshift stage made of wood and a simple barstool was a young man playing his guitar. Looking like the classic drifter musician: disheveled hair, poorly shaven stubble and a voice that reminds you of a long trip to see grandma back in her farm.

The song had a soft folksy feeling to it. His voice was smoothly lulling the listeners to a slow ride down memory lane. The guitar kept making that simple tune which makes you want to tap your foot to it.

A small group of music lovers were also near the stage, listening to the music this young man was playing and moving their heads to the beat of his song. Even a few of the regulars who weren’t close to the guy were listening in… drifting into a sort of trance that only music can do. Nostalgia, melancholy, a longing for home… This guy was really going for the heart on this one.

You could almost swear you’ve heard that song somewhere… Was it on the radio this morning? Now you won’t be able to sleep tonight until you remember!

The moment you step a bit deeper into the bar, you notice another very small and very secluded spot in the bar. Looks like a small booth area where the light is dimmer and only two people seemed to be sitting by themselves. The one that caught your attention is a woman who looked like a star right out of a movie.

She was dressed to the nines: perfect lady suit of white, an elegant hat over her head, sunglasses and a silk scarf around her neck. This woman certainly knows how to dress! All the classic Hollywood elegance was centered on her. But certainly she would’ve been approached by the others! And yet, she remained alone and unbothered by the music, the loud noises of the sports fans or the gabbing from the artists. She held court by herself with all the pride and strength of her majesty, and seemed to command the room, even in her privacy, holding a rich red drink in a martini glass with a cherry at its center.

It’s no wonder that side of the bar is practically alone… seems those folks in the corner like their privacy and aren’t bothered by others due to their projected authority. A thought crosses your mind after this first impression: Maybe it’s better to sit by the bar just for a quick drink.

As you approach the bar, you notice that there’s an odd couple talking to each other. One of them looks like every other office manager you’ve ever encountered: she was dressed in a perfectly tailored office suit, perfectly groomed and glued to her cellphone or laptop. A workaholic who just can’t seem to “turn it off” even after she clocked out. Next to her was a fellow who looked a little on the “nosy” side. Talking to her like he’s trying to find out who’s causing trouble in the neighborhood. Is he a cop? Maybe a reporter? He’s got a bag with a camera and a notepad in hand… let’s hope he’s not a paparazzi.

Leaving the crisply dressed woman and the camera carrying gentleman to themselves, you catch a glimpse of the other bartender on duty.

He’s gently leaning against the back of the bar. His eyes are carefully scanning the bar, waiting for someone to ask for another round. But there’s something about this guy that seems oddly familiar. Have you ever met this guy before?

Finally sitting on the barstool, you finally feel your body relaxing. Good thing too! That walk back home would’ve killed you! Maybe you let out a deep sigh of relief or you huff out with fatigue. We all know that feeling, don’t we?

You take a moment to relax and lean onto the bar. Then you feel the presence of another in front of you. It’s the bartender who was acting like a sentinel. He’s got a tough look, but also a kind smile and knowing gaze. Kinda like your favorite uncle or that one friend you always confided in. It felt safe.

“Welcome to the Shakers Bar. What can I get you, partner?” His voice has a bit of a Texas drawl, but is still clear and welcoming.

Ah! The moment of truth! What’re you gonna have? A beer? A cocktail? Something bitter? Something sweet? What’re you in the mood for?

Uh oh! You came in not expecting anything, but now you have to make a decision! And the bartender just curled his eyebrow and smirked.

You feel compelled to speak, but nothing comes out! Should you feel embarrassed? Angry? Why not just walk away?

“Seems you got a lot on your mind, dontcha?” The bartender places a small plate with assorted snacks in front of you. “There’s no need to rush. Take your time. Breathe. I'll be here when you're ready.”

His nod is gentle, understanding. He's seen this all before: the weariness, the hesitation, the need for a moment's peace. He offers it freely. A hand pats the cool wood of the counter, a silent invitation to rest.

Maybe that’s all you really needed. A place to rest. And this guy knows it. He pats the counter in front of you, nods at you and resumes his place, leaning against the bar counter with his eyes watching everything around it unfold.

It's a rare luxury, this space to simply be. To shed the day's burdens, to let the music wash over you instead of the endless chatter, to find a moment of stillness that isn't interrupted by deadlines or demands. Even the lingering scent of spilled beer, a familiar bar aroma, feels strangely comforting. Maybe places like these still exist.

After all, you’ve found one.

The Shakers Bar, huh? Maybe you’ll come back some other time. Maybe this could be the spot you could shake off some of that fatigue that’s been keeping you from being happy or calm. Maybe, just maybe, you might get to meet one of the regulars.

Maybe you could become one of them.

Maybe.

You come to a decision at last and raise your hand slowly towards the bartender.

He approaches again with a smile and places both hands over the bar counter.

“Ready to order?”

You nod with a smile of your own.

“Alright! What’ll it be?”