Pils

He wasn't even sure why they called him Pils, something in college. It was like a worn joke between old men, who passed the punch line without a setup, as casually as a greeting, to draw a tattered laugh. But Pils wasn't really laughing anymore. He walked into his house and grumbled, finding his roommates had set up the beer pong table. By nine the guests had started arriving, making a loud Tuesday night, even though they all had work the next day.

The house was a rental they commonly called the grown up bunk beds. Pils and his two roommates had met in college and moved in together junior year. They shared the same classes and interned at the same company. He thought they would break at graduation but they all were hired on and decided to continue living with each other. They all had a good time at first, living the loose and irresponsible life so validated by the adult babies they saw all around them. A few years passed and people married off or moved on, but Pils and his roommates were still going to work in sneakers and khaki pants, button down shirts trailing long untucked tails behind them.

Mornings were bleary eyed wonders, heads heavy and cold, dragging themselves into work cracking energy drinks or first thing sodas. Pils has started drinking black coffee, a taste he felt like he had to keep to himself. His roommates drank theirs very sweet and rich with cream, but he looked forward to the toasted bitterness and the mahogany aroma. He felt like they might tease him for it. They road in a procession and the irony didn't miss Pils, they might as well be riding bikes with cards snapping in the spokes.

"This is Pils" his roommate said slapping him hard on the back, forcing his voice above the bass of the stereo, the xbox, and the mingling chatter. His roommate widened his eyes and leaned in, pushing Pils towards the girl as if that's all it took, and slipping back into the dim anonymity of the room.

She was pretty in the plain way, the way that Pils liked. She looked slightly annoyed which made him suppress a chuckle. "He was just telling me about his trip to Europe. Amsterdam, London, Madrid, it sounds like he had quite a time. Saw a lot of pubs."

"God," Pils laughed. "I really hope human history doesn't become a narrative of all the places our generation has thrown up." She was charmed by this. "My name is Phillip," and she shook his hand.