[ EU ] `` Good afternoon , good evening and good night . '' you say as you exit through the sky-painted door .

“ Hey, wait a minute. Are you that guy? ” a man asks as he walks up to the bar, thumping his left hand on the table. 
 
 “ Yea. I ’ m that guy. ” I answer, sipping my drink. 
 
 “ Man, they ’ re right. You don ’ t look so good. ” 
 
 I take another drink, seeing that nothing is left but ice and watered down whisky I ’ ve been milking. I don ’ t reply to the man next to me. I don ’ t even look at him. I just raise my glass to signal to the bartender, Joe I think is his name, for another. 
 
 “ Hey, hey, ” he gives me a slap on the back. “ Say the line. Please say the line. ” 
 
 I groan, “ In case I don ’ t see you, ” which I haven ’ t yet, “ good afternoon, good evening and goodnight. ” It's in sort of a dead flare. Some inflections, but no enthusiasm. 
 
 I ’ m still holding up my glass, rattling it now, needing a drink more than ever. That line – that life… 
 
 I turn to the man next to me, finally getting a good look at him. He ’ s got a usual face, no point in wasting words describing him. “ You ever see Shawshank Redemption? ” I ask him while my drink is being filled, and he is handed a beer. 
 
 I get the slap on the back again, and he now takes a firm seat next to me. Everyone his age grew up with me, and thinks they know me personally enough. “ Who the hell hasn ’ t! It ’ s a great film. ” Before I even think whether or not I should engage in conversation, something I would have done before, he starts in again. “ Oh yea. Yea I get it man. Prison – sanctuary. Yea. ” 
 
 I suck my teeth, I can feel the reply about to surge “ NO. YOU DON ’ T GET IT! ” But his response was only my fault. I know that. I provoked it. I only reply “ Yup. ” – defeated. 
 
 “ Hey man, what happened to that girl? I mean I heard about the split, but tell me, what really happened? Why did it happen? Why the hell are you even here in this shit hole anyway? ” 
 
 So that was it, my complete indifference opened a conversation, annoyance and sheer exhaustion led me to give in to him in order to get rid of him and have my peace. 
 There ’ s an empty table and chairs just across the bar in a quiet corner. I grab my glass and head towards it waving for him to follow. This happens nearly every night I come here. Sometimes I indulge them. Sometimes I dump my drink in their laps and tell them to piss off or something like that. Sometimes I'm obnoxious and make a scene, inviting others. Sometimes it ’ s all of the above in random order. 
 
 We sit there. I cup my glass with two hands now, pondering, rubbing off the condensation, twisting it, spinning it. “ So the girl, is that all you want to know? Or do you want the whole thing? ” 
 
 “ I got plenty of time! Hey, can I get a picture with you too? ” 
 
 This guy is all over the place. I lean in for the “ selfie.'' God, I can only predict the comments, “ That guy ’ s still alive? ” “ Oh man, he looks like shit? ” “ Who the hell is Truman? ” “ Is that that guy from that show? ” 
 
 “ From the beginning? ” I ask 
 
 “ From the beginning. ” He replies, nodding eagerly. 
 
 “ I left. You know that. I rushed into her arms. You know that too. I embraced the smell of real, fresh air for the first time in my life. You saw it, almost 20 years ago now. And the first few days were complete bliss. I was like a four year old on his first field trip to the farm. All senses were activated – good smells and bad smells were allllll good smells, tastes was intense, the sounds, touching everything, seeing everything. Lauren – Sylvia loved it. She let me call her Lauren. ” 
 
 I take a drink, noticing now that this man, whose name I don ’ t even know or care to know really is fixed on me. 
 “ So of course the show was ruined,'' I continued. `` I had to immediately deal with that nightmare… Court cases, hearings, talk show interviews. I was pulled every single direction, but Lau – Sylvia was my center – my point of reference. The problem is I had freak outs and fits. I ’ m a man of passion, and I ’ m triggered easily. It drove me to her in the first place, and it drove her away from me after a time. 
 “ Then there were those who were pissed about the show ending. They were still entitled to my life, our life. 
 
 `` Those first months were only the times of early anger storms. Things quieted, letting the anger fester. Everything set me off. Anytime she or anyone wanted something, I gave them the opposite, 10-fold! ” I was becoming a little animated with my gestures. Becoming aware of it, I revive my serious tone again. “ Or she would try to calm me down.'Shh. It's going to be ok. Shhh.' And I'd come back at her,'I'm not a fucking kid. Ooo k!''' 
 
 My drink is empty again. I hold the glass up, rock it, bang on the table, `` Hey, over here, come onnnn!'' 
 
 `` Jack ass,'' Ashley, the cocktail waitress says, slamming the fresh glass on the table. 
 
 `` You love it.'' I reply 
 
 `` Want another?'' She asks the stranger. 
 
 `` Hmmm, umm,'' he looks at the bottle, three quarters empty and starts sputtering noises while trying to decide. `` Pfffff, ohhhh, uhhh. Yea, yep. ” He drums the table, announcing his decision. “ Yep. I'll take another.'' Then to me, `` ok, back to it. I mean I saw your movies. You were great!'' 
 
 `` Yep. I was. I was great. I probably still am. But'no one can work with that guy.''' I mock. `` I was angry, but then you learn how just shitty the real world is. The fucking Holocaust, North Korea, poverty, animal abuse, starvation, religious wars, assholes in general. 
 `` You know, kids are resilient when they learn about this stuff. Their minds are flexible and they learn about it gradually. You hear it for the first time in your 30s, and you literally have to have someone lock you up to prevent you from going on a killing spree, or killing yourself. I ’ m am a real-life fallen angel! 
 “ So naturally, bad days on set made me go into near murderous rampages, at least in my head. I'd never do it. But I'd always want to.'' 
 
 `` You ever want to kill her?'' He interrupts just as Ashley returns with his drink. 
 
 `` Yep.'' I answered twisting my glass. `` It got bad. She left. And I did n't miss her. 
 `` My anger got worse. I did n't get booked. Money was getting low. Became a one-season reality joke. Lost media interest as a train wreck. It's a slow spiral. I'm surprised it went on so long. 
 “ Like Shawshank, I wanted to go back – back to my Eden. But you can ’ t. You can go back to prison. You can ’ t go back to an illusion after unmasking it. 
 
 `` Yea, so how do they even let you out in public?'' 
 
 I laugh, `` Ooo, I'm such a monster. How do they let him walk free! ” I twist my class more as I think back. “ Well, you know. You hit rock bottom, as they say, and there are somehow people in the world who still care about you. Rehab wasn ’ t going to work for someone like me. I was out of my element entirely. At this point, there wasn ’ t the fear of media so much. Being a has-been has its advantages. So you know what they did, they got me connected to this real renegade therapist. She had these wild ideas for past clients, but it worked. She had a track record. 
 “ So she met with me a few times, and finally pitched this really crazy idea. I shit you not, she suggested I live in a zoo. Live in a zoo! ” The stranger bursts into a short laugh. I gulp my drink, nod and agree. “ Yea. Yea I know. Her idea was that it was a sort of ‘ Truman Show ’ for animals, and it might be the next best thing for me. It might help me cope. It might be the best stepping stone to get me rehabilitated. ” 
 
 “ So did you do it? Were you in with animals? Did people watch you? ” The stranger asked – he ’ s ‘ the stranger ’ now since I don ’ t care to find out his name. 
 
 “ Yea, this is the chapter in my life no one really knows about. I did it. I was reluctant, but I was also ready to try anything. 
 “ So they sent me to a place overseas. Couldn ’ t be in the US- enough people would recognize me, and it wouldn ’ t do me any good. And yea I was in with the animals. It was one of those exhibits where they have a mix of different kinds, harmless kinds. I wore zookeeper gear so I just looked like a worker. And I had to shovel shit and feed them. But I lived among them. It was great too. You ’ d have these families who were there every weekend – and I gave them a new greeting. I became Truman again! ” 
 
 “ So it sounds like it worked! ” The stranger said. 
 
 “ Well, I haven ’ t slit your throat in my mind yet. ” He didn ’ t laugh at my response. “ Yea, it worked well enough. It worked for a time. I had consistency. I had people watching me work, I had regulars come visit me, still thinking I was just a 
 keeper. They watched me interact with the animals. The animals had their habits. Everyone had their rituals. Everyone had a ‘ script. ’ It was a world all for me. 
 “ But I can guess your next question – ‘ So why are you here now - maaah-haaannn? ’ Well the ‘ therapy ’ worked in calming my anger. It worked in sort of weening me out of illusion and into the real world because not everything was controlled. Zookeepers were real people. But they weren ’ t totally my friends. In their mind, I was just an animal. And that seemed to fit what I deserved, but I didn ’ t like that very much. So I came back. I keep quiet and rot in this little bar. Sometimes I go back to the zoo. I ’ m welcome there any time I need to just get away. But then I get restless again, and come back here. It works. I hate real people for the most part, but I can live with them now. 
 
 “ Man, that ’ s incredible stuff. Did you ever get all spiritual at the zoo? Find some sort of inner light? ” The stranger asked. 
 
 I take a tiny drink, sigh, “ You only get one tonight. ” I'm not ready to dive into another part of my life that was more disappointing. “ Yea. I ’ m done, ” I say firmly, raising my eyebrow and turning to him for dramatic effect. I knock my half empty cup into his lap. Ice, water and whisky are saturating his lower shirt and pants. 
 “ Hey, what the hell man? ” He asks as I get up and move back toward the bar. 
 I turn back to him, midway to the bar and say, “ Hey, In case I don ’ t see you again, good afternoon, good evening and Guh-hoood night! ” 
 

