Life had kicked Kyle Dryer hard and now he was trying to prop himself up with a bottle.
“Here’s to being a complete screw-up!” he drunkenly toasted the sky. The empty bar did not toast him back. Kyle Dryer was losing and was acting like it.
“My job is a joke. My wife is cold. My kids are screwed up. Thanks God for nothing.”
Ed the bartender wiped out the glass and stacked it on the bar. He had heard this speech so many times before. It seemed that every pity party keynote speech blamed the God.
Kyle yelled, “Give me another, bartender. And make it snappy.”
The bartender wondered some days if this was worth it. This was his second job — a job that helped put his special needs child through school. He felt his jaw tighten as he poured another drink. He felt like an enabler for fools.
“Here you go, Ace,” he slid the glass toward Kyle. “Enjoy.”
Kyle threw a fistful of dollars at the man. “No, you enjoy.”
“A-hole,” the bartender mumbled under his breath. No one enjoyed a pity party except the person throwing it.
But Kyle Dryer wasn’t an a-hole. He was a good man who had lost focus. He took another swig and looked up, “Why?”
A voice said, “to make you better, that’s why.”
Kyle swung around, looking for the voice. He couldn’t see the source.
“Oh, I’m here. Walk on over to my booth. We need to talk.”
Strange — the bartender didn’t act like he had heard anything. Kyle picked up his drink and walked over the corner of the bar. It was dark and particularly smokey. But it didn’t smell like cigarette smoke. In fact, it had no smell at all.
Kyle sat his drink down and tried to make out a face on the man. Nothing. A hand reached out into the slight beam of light and touched his bourbon. Kyle noticed it turned from gold to clear.
“Now, we can talk. I needed your undivided attention.”
Kyle interrupted by asking, “What’s your name?”
“I go by many names, son. Names aren’t important. Just call me a friend.”
Kyle shifted uncomfortably in the booth. The hardwood bench pinched his back. He had a feeling his pity party had just ended.
“Remember when you played basketball in high school and you almost got cut from the team?”
Kyle said, “How do you know that?!?”
The voice continued, “Did you quit? Did you blame God or anyone else for your problems?”
“Um, no.” Kyle stuttered,” I worked my butt off. I went to the gym early before school and shot free throws until I got blisters. I eventually made All-State and got a college scholarship.”
“How’s this any different?”
“This isn’t’ a game, that’s how it is different.” Kyle’s voice had a touch of indignation.
“Exactly. It’s more important. And yet, you are in here harassing my favorite bartender instead of doing what you need to do to make things better.”
“But this is overwhelming. I don’t know why so many bad things are happening at once. You’re so smart — tell me why.”
“Because like when you played basketball, I know you have greatness in your heart — that’s why. You must rise to the challenge. Diamonds are just coal without heat and pressure.”
Kyle looked into the darkness and saw his father’s face. And then his coach’s. And then his mentor’s. He then saw his wife, his child and his boss’.
“Yes, Kyle. We all are there to make you better. You can change the world. You just have to believe. And then do. Now go, son. Get busy. People need you. The hard times are what polish you. They make you great.”
Kyle picked up his bourbon and took a swig.
It was water.