Customer Profile: The Ghostly Logician
There is no customer so respected at the Last Chance Salon as the Ghostly Logician. Once a man, now so much more, he commands the room with a quirk of one eyebrow. Able to see the beauty in all things, regardless of conventional wisdom, he has always been the negotiator, the peacemaker.
The nights on which he graces out little establishment with his presence are nights of tranquility, nights whereupon perhaps, a single, stray tentacle wanders up from the underworld; a single demon setting a single shot of Cointrau ablaze rather than the Cthuloid sitting across the poker table. Nights upon which dogs and cats live together.
There is one day, every seven years we ask him to stay away. The man is not easily angered, but on that one day, well… after the sixth time we had to buy new barstools, we figured it was easier to enact a twenty-four hour ban.
Happy long life and make lots of money, he’ll say, if he decides your worthy of his blessing, saluting with his fingers all twisted up and… we’ve never figured that part out, honestly. Whatever, just do your best, he seems to be of the, “it’s the thought that counts,” school of hand gestures.
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