The Bar

“Hey.” “Hey.” “What’s that?” “It’s a bar.” “What’s it for?” “Well, it’s sort of a standard, um…a measuring device.” “What’s it do?” “Well, like I said, it’s a standard, a measurement, eh, for who can come in.” “What’s it for?” “Well, it draws a line, it sets a standard for entry…you gotta step over the bar to gain entry.” “Can I come in?” “Only if you step over the bar.” “Dude, that’s kind of weird; seems like a weird rule, and kind of high from where I’m standing.” “Yeah, well, there has to be some kind of standard to get in; gotta step over the bar.”

“Crazy man. Why don’t I just go under?” “Can’t go under; you can’t do it that way.” “Why not? It’d be easier. You’d get a lot more people in.” “You’d be crawling in the dirt; just step over the bar; it’s not that high.” “Dude, looks high. Isn’t there another way?” “Nope. Can’t go under. Can’t go around. Can’t go through.” “Come on.” “Nope. One way. No back door. No side doors. No roof access, no trap doors.” “Hmmm.” “Step over the bar!”

“Look! I don’t like your bar.” “It’s not really my bar.” “They don’t have a bar next door. Or down the street; so what’s the big deal with you?” “You’re not next door, or down the street.” “I know… But I could be.” “Then, why are you standing here?” “Cause I think I wanna be inside here.” “Then step over the bar.” “Looks good inside.” “You could step over the bar if you wanted to.” “Ehh. Maybe. But. I really don’t like that bar; why do you have to have one when nobody else does?” “Look, there really has to be a bar. If you want to come in here, you gotta go over the bar.”

“What about her?” “She stepped over the bar.” “And Him?” “He stepped over the bar.” “I think I am going to go where they don’t have a bar.” “It’s different there.” “Yeah? Like how?” “Like no bar. Pretty crowded. But, no bar. You know. Different.” “Crowded?” “Yeah, crowded; everyone gets in.” “No standard, right?” “Right. No bar.” “Maybe that would be better for me.” “Um…No.” “Why?” “This is where you need to be.”… … “Step over the bar, right?” “Yep. Step over the bar.”

“Ahhh! You’re killing me!” “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to frustrate you. But you’re still outside.” “You like chocolate-chip cookies?” “Tollhouse?” “Of course.” “No nuts?” “Naah.”  “Yeah, I like chocolate-chip cookies. Who doesn’t?” “Give you a dozen if you let me in.” “Dude! Don’t even go there. I can’t believe you went there! You gotta step over the bar.” “How about an old-fashion donut…” “Chocolate old-fashioned?”  “Absolutely!” “From Hings?!” “The only kind.” “Dude! Check it out! They have clear glaze under the chocolate frosting! Stop it! Those are my favorite, but…mmmm…you still gotta step over the bar.”

“Haaay. Come on.” “Come on, what?” “Let me in. Okay?” “Okay.” “Really?” “Yeah, really.” “Sooo?” “So What?” “So what? Let me in!” “Look. It’s up to you. It really is your choice. But…” “I know. I gotta step over the bar.” “Yeah. It’s that easy. You gotta step over the bar.”

… …“I   don’t   like   the   bar.”