crocodile

last night i dreamt that i was the proud owner of a bar in louisiana. the bar had flooded and after years of trying to drain it, i just let it be a swim-up swamp bar. the water was murky, the lights were browning out in raw bulbs, and my clientele sat on stools that were one foot under water. algae and bog slime floated on the surface of the water, which was an army green with specks of silt in the sunlight. i perched on a stool, and pondered new methods for draining the bar. people gave me advice -- drain it, don't drain it. then, one day, an old man came in and swam up to where i sat, puzzling at my muck-filled establishment. he said, the only way this swamp will ever drain is if you find the crocodile that lives here. it was supposedly the largest crocodile anyone in this undisclosed backwoods town had ever seen.

how can i find it and get rid of it? i asked him.

you can't, he said, it has to eat every person in the bar. then it will leave and the swamp water will drain.

i only had about four clients, plus a bar tender. i wondered if i was included in that "every"...

just then, a younger man came up to me and told me he could kill the crocodile and no one would get hurt. i told the old man to clear the bar.

he asked if i had a gun, i told him i did -- in the cash register. the old man made everyone leave and sat with me on the bar, convinced this younger man could do nothing to stop the crocodile from having its way.

the younger guy opened the cash register and pulled out my dripping gun.

it won't shoot, he said.

he found a large pepper grinder and decided that would be his weapon of choice. the old man and i were doubtful, but willing to let him try. just then, i saw the crocodile sleeping under the water between the window and the register -- bubbles zigzagging up from its nostrils. it was a caricature of the ferocious beast evoked by saturday cartoons, a captain hook nightmare with a mouth large enough to swallow a man whole.

i pointed to the crocodile and the young man plunged the pepper grinder into the water in a lame attempt to knock the crocodile out. the crocodile was not amused. slowly, it rose to the top of the water and scooped the man into his jaws--pepper grinder in hand--like a pelican. with one closed-lip smile, the crocodile crushed the man like a mouthful of pretzels -- his bones snapping audibly. the crocodile stared at me, then sank back into the water. the old man disappeared. i thought, he was right, and as soon as he eats me the bar will finally be saved. and now, i was left to face this thing alone, but i had no desire to escape.

the crocodile rose out of the water with blood-stained teeth, inches from my face.

i'm not going to eat you, he said. i just needed to eat one last man, and then i could be free again.

then, the crocodile turned into a man, and the bar slowly drained and morphed into a cocktail parlor in the lobby of a hotel -- red carpet, wine glasses suspended in uniform perfection, employees polishing the bar and patrons sipping gin in booths under hanging tiffany lamps.

he walked me through the bar and told me tales of being stuck as a crocodile for years, with a voracious quota set by whomever had issued his reptilian curse.

it's been so hard, he said. eating all of these people for so many years, but i'm finally free.

[fade to black]