Keene College was voted one of the top ten small college party schools in America. This honour was bestowed upon the school by a publication devoted to well written stories interlaced with pictures of women absent clothing. The Keene student body worked quite diligently to live up to their lofty ranking – they weren’t about to cede top ten and state honours to those upstarts from Plymouth.

The Keene pub opened at 2 pm Monday through Saturday, closing at midnight; on Sundays, it was open from 2 pm until 10 pm. On this particular Thursday, Tim had claimed first place in line, soon joined by 3 of his housemates.

At a minute after 2, the door lock gave a telltale ‘click,’ a knob turned, and the door sprung outward. The barkeep took a step back into the darkened pub, and then stopped to hold the door open for the thirsty patrons behind him.

Tim, Alex, Bobby, and Dennis had their pick of the pub tables. They chose not to move far beyond the bar, leaving a couple of tables in between in order to avoid beer-fetching congestion. No sooner had they settled to the table, but Bobby sprang back up to buy the first pitcher of beer, along with 2 large bags of Brew Nutz.

While the beer poured, Bobby took a step around the first table, then deftly launched the two bags of Beer Nutz across 8 feet of space, landing them square in the middle of their table. He made an interim trip for four frosted beer mugs, then returned to the bar for the now full pitcher, carrying it quite reverently to their slightly wobbly table.

Tim reached for the amber liquid with his right hand, reaching for his mug with the left. Easily coordinating his motion from a few years of practice, his glass tilted towards and tangentially caught the spillage falling off the spout of the pitcher.

As soon as Tim set the pitcher down and removed his hand, Alex took a turn at displaying his prowess with mug and pitcher. Unfortunately for Alex, the pour left 2 inches of foamy head on his beer; Dennis reached for the excess above the glass rim, pulling the foam now residing on his hand towards his face, where he dabbed it on and pretended to shave.

Everyone laughed as if this was the first time anyone there had ever seen this manoeuvre. In point of fact, every one of them had both been victim and shaver.

The four of them teased and shared stories and laughed while other students filed in to occupy the remaining tables. Within an hour, a line had queued outside the pub door. The drawback to this tiny facility was the presence of the restrooms outside of the locked pub area, necessitating patrons to run the gauntlet of impatient drinkers to be. And one by one, each of the original four took their turn at being teased to leave.

As Tim wandered back towards the pub, his attention was diverted by one in the queue. He tried not to stare, tried not to be seen staring, and so he turned his head away.

Once back inside, he had one part of his mind on the doings at his table, and another on the door to the pub. After 20 minutes or so, the person who caught his interest walked on through, stopping to order a mug of beer before proceeding to the vacated table. Tim was visually with her the whole way, a fact not long lost to his tablemates. He came out of his trance after the third utterance of his name “Tim!”

As he looked up and around, the other 3 were smiling knowingly. Within minutes, a bet was placed – the prize a pitcher of beer – that Tim would not have the courage to go up to the unnamed woman and establish dialogue. Tim refused to bet, though he calmly stood and walked over to where the woman of interest was seated, and said hello.

For Bobby, Alex, and Dennis, they watched with undivided interest, two against one, Alex rooting for Tim. From their vantage point, they saw lots of smiles, some laughter… they fell silent as Tim grabbed an unoccupied chair, and took a seat at the other table.

Alex was a pitcher of beer richer.

Meanwhile, Tim spent the next two hours at the other table. His own group lost interest until they saw the occupants of the other table rise in preparation of leaving. Two of the group left the pub, Tim and the ‘woman of interest’ walking slowly away from their table. She continued onward, Tim veered back to their table.

“Her name is Ronnie, and tomorrow night we are going to come back here for a beer, then maybe catch a movie.” Tim’s words and smile said it all.