When I grow up...
Interior of an empty darkly lit neighborhood bar except for one male patron nursing a drink and one bartender wiping a glass dry.
— You know how when one is young one tends to say things like “When I grow up…”?
— Yes, —answered the bartender slightly raising his eyes to view the patron as he keeps wiping the glass in his hands.
— It’s funny how one sees so clearly what one wants to be at that age… only to turn out being something else.
— Mmmm. True. Can’t say I saw myself being a barkeep back then…
— Yeah. Can’t say I saw myself being what I am now, either…, —said the bar patron as he plays with his drink.
— Yeah… So what was it you wanted to be back then?
— Mmmm? What? —said the bar patron lifting his head to look at the bar keep for the first time.— What did you say?
— I said: “What was it you wanted to be back then?” You know, back when you were a kid.
— Oh, yeah…. that. Well, when I was a kid I used to say that when I grew up I wanted to be a man,— said the bar patron looking back at his drink.
— And? —said the barkeep looking at the bar patron somewhat confused.— What did you become?
— I…, —the bar patron took a deep breath as he raised his drink in his hand to his eyes to look at the amber liquid swishing inside the glass more closely as he quizzically answered,—…I don’t know…