The Smith Inn Otford1
It’s another lonely evening and another lonely town. I’m on my way to a bar a friend suggested was good. I’ve just arrived today, but I feel like some action. Maybe take home some company so as not to spend my first night alone.2
It’s a small town. Otford, it’s called, in Kent, the Southeast of England. Very charming, by what I’ve seen so far. I’m staying at a cosy little Inn. As for why I am actually here... I’m a secret agent on a top-secret government assignment! Obviously not, but it would be nice. I’m actually collecting interviews from various English locales about common Ancient History knowledge for an Oxford University research program. I work there, teach there, but got the interviewing job anyway. I’m grateful for it; a change in the usual dull life I lead is always welcome.3
Dull, you might ask, teaching at Oxford? Yes, dull. It’s fun for the first few weeks then gets boring.4
Bottom line - I’m happy to be out and about. Otford should be one of my last stops. However, the interviews can wait; I deserve some fun at one of the local pubs.5
I arrive at the Horns. It’s getting dark and I go inside. Music. Loud men talking. Glasses clinking. Girls laughing. It’s the typical English country pub atmosphere.6
I sit at the counter. 7
“I'll have a beer," I say to the plump waiter. He nods.8
I’ve already collected about 200 interviews so far. As it turns out, the common Ancient History knowledge is quite poor in England. I haven’t analised the interviews properly, but it seems that most people know a lot about Engligh History but next to nothing when it comes to the History of other countries, i.e Egypt, Italy, etc.9
“Thanks,” I mutter when the plump waiter arrives with my beer. A pretty, slim, blond woman catches my eye slyly a few seats away. I ignore her, for now, which makes her move one seat nearer.10
Now I turn to her and say, “Hi.” I shouldn’t be doing this, now that I think about it.11
She smiles at me and answers, “ ‘Lo. Name’s Nancy. Pleasure to meet you.” She offers me her hand. I shake it.12
“James Asher. The pleasure’s all mine,” I say. So we start talking. We talk for a while, until I find out she works at the Inn where I’m staying. The Smith Inn.13
“It’s very nice,” I comment. 14
“Yes, I’ve always liked working there. You know what I love about working at an Inn?”15
“What?” I ask, starting my third beer.16
“Well I’m the desk clerk on the weekends. I meet the people and choose their rooms if they’re not already booked. I talk to them. And for about 15 minutes, each guest is the only person I care about in the whole world,” she says, her eyes glassy.17
“I can see you really love your job,” I notice.18
“I like helping people. I like being important to them. And best of all, I love to imagine why the people are staying at the Inn.”19
“Is that so?”20
“Oh yes. Is it on vacation? A work trip? If it’s a lonely gentlemen, did he get kicked out of his house for the night after a fight with the lady? Lots goes on behind my back, I just move it on. Get them a room, get them settled in. And then I forget about them.”21
“Are you drunk?” I ask.22
“A little. But it’s Friday night, come on...” she says, leaning closer. I smell her perfume. I shouldn’t be doing this. “Everyone deserves some fun on Friday night.”23
I’m about to invite her back to the Inn, say that I’ve got a king-sized bed with only a king to sleep in it. 24
But she speaks before I do, “Well I’m terribly sorry, but I have to go now.” My heart slumps miserably.25
“Ok... then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the Inn?”26
“Probably. Nice meeting you, John.” She hurries out the door.27
“James,” I correct her. The waiter looks at me, sympathetically, and hands me another beer. 28
Suddenly I get up and say, loud, “But I ain’t too young to worry!” Immediately, the waiter turns to me and ushers me back to my seat. I shouldn’t be doing this. “And I ain’t too old to cry when a woman gets me down!” I yell, holding up my arms. I almost drop the bottle I have in my right hand.29
Everyone is looking at me.30
“Shut yer trap and sit down!” the waiter insists. I don’t. I walk away, beer in hand.31
The village sleeps. There’s a rural smell which I find agreeable. No time to stop and admire the local fragrances, though. I gotta get to bed, I’m knackered. 32
So... I’ve got another empty bottle and another empty bed. I try to sleep, but can’t. A dog barks in the distance. Crickets chirp and sing. What am I doing? I should call my wife.33
“Hello?” she answers drowsily.34
“It’s me,” I say bluntly in the dark room.35
“Oh. Hello, James. Long time no hear. When was it that you called me last... when you were in London?”36
“I guess.”37
“I don’t even know what to say. I thought something had happened to you. You never called!”38
“I know, I know... I’m sorry.”39
“You should be,” she remarks, obviously annoyed.40
“Truth is... I was afraid of hearing the news. Did you...?”41
“I filed the divorce papers yesterday morning.”42
I sigh. It’s not a heavy sigh. It’s a knowing sigh. A sigh that already expected to be sighed.43
“Ok then.”44
“Is that all? I thought you’d cook up a storm,” she says.45
“Oh sure there’s a storm. It’s just underplayed.”46
We chat for another 5 minutes or so. She hangs up first. I lie on my bed.47
“I ain’t too young to admit it and I’m not too old to lie,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m just another empty head.” 48
Another sigh.49
Author notes
This is a short story I wrote based on these lyrics by AC/DC; I must admit, I wasn't particularly inspired by them... still, hope you enjoy it.
It's another lonely evening
And another lonely town
But I ain't too young to worry
And I ain't too old to cry
When a woman gets me down.
Got another empty bottle
And another empty bed
Ain't too young to admit it
And I'm not too old to lie
I'm just another empty head." -- ac/dc
A contest entry
- Sound Off! (er... on...) by rindomai.
475 points, ended April 22, 2006, 7 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Something Sad by Moonlightangel.
220 points, ended May 19, 2006, 23 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Diversity Goes - - II by IvoryRose.
250 points, ended August 1, 2006, 15 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Singing Stories by tearsofsadness.
950 points, ended August 27, 2006, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think, I'd appreciate some comments!
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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Awsome!
It was nicely made! And I see the conncetion of the lyrics to the story, so it was a perfect songfic! Great Job!
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I think you start off very well and capture your reader. Towards the end though, it seems to lose something. I'm not sure exactly why, maybe because you stop describing and start writing actions and dialogue only. Overall an interesting piece though. Good luck.
beginning: 5, language: 4, plot: 4, ending: 3, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
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hm
interesting, I quite liked this actually. I think it works really well leaving it until the end to tell the reader what is really going on.
good description and character.
good luck
xxx Moonlight xxx -
Enjoyable reading it alone.
I enjoyed the sad and lonely beginning. I am sitting here alone and need lonely literature for company. I remember my days spent in Idaho, USA. Visiting the bars there and sometimes taking my pen and paper to write letters back home to Tennessee.
This man's life as an interviewer gave him a respite from his normal work. You did well even though you were poorly inspired by what the Contest gave you to work with.
It was an angst lovely tale. I guess it had to end with the sad dialogue with the ex-wife. I am led to believe he will get up in the morning and his life will continue and at best there may or may not be any company for him based on his bar skills in communicating with the other sex.beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, overall: 6, ending: 3, dialog: 3, characters: 3.
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Well written realism
Although a far cry from Bradford, I find we can pick up on intresting themes through pubs and bars. This piece I very much liked. The dialogue was as close to actual speech as possible and never did it seem to be dirrivative or slip into over-description. The narrative had that English gentleman feel to it, which I suppose would be congruant with a lecturer at Oxford. The familiar themes of divorce and such I find were well presented in this and very much shows the curse of the modern man, a sort of powerless entity, added to it the odd retraction of the girl at the pub, possibly because she has someone to return to too.
The tie in with AC/DC was quite a feat, I'm sure it wasn't much to work on. Though now I know what you we're refering to, I find he was singing in the bar, which really picked up on something you might see one day and then in contrast with the quite wimpered singing in his hotel room at the end. The story being entirely based on those lyrics was very well handled.
There were a few problems though. I think you spelt analysed wrong as 'analised'. Also the timescale seems a bit unbelievable at one point. Where he starts his 3rd beer the conversation with the girl seems to have not nearly gone far enough to pass the amount of time required to have already drunk 2 pints.
Aside from that an excellent piece, well worth reading, and a brilliant style.beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 4, overall: 8, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Hehe . . . it posted twice . . .
beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, overall: 9, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 5.
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Really Interesting
And I mean interesting in a good way. It made me laugh in the beginning. It kept my attention the whole way through. And I'd say you did a remarkable job, since you said you weren't inspired.beginning: 5, language: 5, plot: 5, overall: 9, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 5.
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Really good vignette
As it happens, I know the village of Otford. As you write, Slicknick, it's very quaint, the prototypical English village. And I think you've done well to put prototypical English figures into your story: the shallow, unreliable, unself-assured hotel girl, the curt (about to be ex-)wife and the sad midlife academic with little control over anything (you can tell I'm not English).
The writing is good, sometimes very good: I like "a sigh that already expected to be sighed". But it needs editing: look at the two 'anyways' at the end of para 3, ... and "slyfully"? Where did that come from? Do crickets sing? And so on. Always worth chucking your text through a spell-checker before going public, too. Remember that the art of writing is ultimately the art of rewriting!
Good luck and keep it up!beginning: 5, language: 4, plot: 5, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
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Hi, thanks for your comment. I've made the necessary corrections, thanks for pointing them out.
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heh well this thing blocks out the writer's name and you didnt put the lyrics in the authors comments (i should add that to the list of things to edit on the contest grr) but i recognized them from the dialogue... which i thnk is pretty cool
i'm sorry you werent inspired by them. the reason i like contests like this is to see what people do with the most uninspired lines... twist the words to mean something else, create a scene that has nothing to do with the song. heh maybe i'm just weird and that's why i thnk it's interesting 
in any case, thanks for entering anyway
i'm lovin the dialogue and the thought process for james. they feel real... even his little outburst at the pub. and as always (for you at least heh) the characters seem real enough so that i actually felt some sympathy for them. particularly james who seems to be going through a bit of a midlife crisis lol. all in all, i really like the feel of this... it's sad, broken, and yet has that dying glow of youth and excitement... like someone who's clinging to the good times even as they fade.
thanks for entering! and good luck
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 5, overall: 8, ending: 4, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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