"Did you need anything else?" I asked.
For the last 10 days, the bar had been running nearly around the clock as bikers streamed into the small town of Sturgis by the tens of thousands. The estimated numbers of those who had come to the rally were north of 800,000 and I was relatively sure the bar Troy and I were now closing for the last official night of the rally had served the majority of them.
"I've gotta finish putting the chairs up and wipe down the bar. Do you have time to straighten up downstairs?" Troy said.
"No problem," I said as I turned to head toward the stairs.
"Thanks. And I've got your split of the tips. So, don't take off quite yet."
"Ok," I said, halfway down the stairs already.
Those stairs and the basement I was now sweeping up had been a blur of activity just hours before, and, as one of only two barbacks covering the late night shift, I hadn't really had time to appreciate the incredible selection that lined the walls and coolers of the space. Now, however, with the bar empty of everyone except Troy and myself, I had time to appreciate the beauty inherent in the bottles, labels, and bar detritus that lined the walls. Sweeping, I took the time to study the space, to breathe it in and savor the unique opportunity I had as a barback during the largest motorcycle gathering in the world.
Feeling the weight of the moment, I quickly finished sweeping up and grabbed a stool to just sit and reflect. The strange events and characters that made up the last 10 days played through my mind and I found myself lost in the memories - the insane outfits and painted ladies, the constant roar of the bikes and the bands, the eccentrics and the want-a-be's, Troy barking out drink orders, laughing, and making sure every customer enjoyed the party. In the midst of all of the chaos I could now see the beauty of each crazy moment. Though the work was demanding and at times relentless, the last 10 days had been some of the best of my life and I hated to see it end.
"What are you smiling about?" Troy said as he came down the stairs.
In spite of myself, I laughed. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I hate to see it end. It was an amazing ride."
"It's the best 10 days of the year!" he said as he made his way over to the small office at the back of the basement and disappreared behind the half-closed door.
"Hard to believe how quiet it is now." I said to fill the silence that had suddenly fallen over the space.
"The silence reminds us just how much we love the noise."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I laughed. "Is that some kind of bartender wisdom?"
