A Mermaid, a Fairy, and a Gnome Walk Into a Bar
by Craig Borri
“Hey Nobbin, I’ll have another.”
“Coming right up, Garn,” Nobbin said. He finished wiping down the bar then went over and poured another gallon of mead into the troll’s mug. The pitcher was almost as big as Nobbin himself, but fortunately gnomes were strong for their size. Garn grunted his thanks and took a swig. That was his fifth of the night, but it would take at least twice as many before he even became tipsy.
Other than Garn, the place was fairly empty. There were a couple of leprechauns playing dice in the corner. Nobbin wasn’t sure why they bothered, since with their luck they always rolled sevens, but if they were willing to buy drinks, he wasn’t complaining.
Then, the door opened and a tiny glowing woman in a teal dress flew in on gossamer wings. “Hey Flitter,” Nobbin said as she settled into one of the tiny stools set up on the edge of the bar. “The usual?”
“Make it a double. It’s been a rough day.”
“Right,” he said, pouring a full thimbleful of wine and pushing it in front of her. “More trouble with the bees?”
“You know it. They seem to get pushier every day. How’s a girl supposed to make a living if she can’t even get to the nectar?”
Nobbin’s reply was interrupted by a sudden swish of water. A shimmering portal opened in the floor and a mermaid levitated up into the bar and settled into one of the larger stools. She had long green hair framing a face and body covered with light blue scales. As was usual with mermaids, her hair was strategically placed to provide her with some modesty, while leaving tantalizing glimpses of her assets. Garn whistled appreciatively. She ignored him.
“Hey Seafoam, it’s been a while. What brings you here to slum with the dry folks?” Nobbin asked with a grin. The mermaid was one of his favorite customers, mainly because she drank like a fish.
“Sorry about the mess,” she said, indicating the water dripping on the floor. “I just need a scotch that’s not watered down. Would you believe those humans have made another mermaid movie?”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said, pouring her a glass. “Wasn’t the first one a cartoon?”
“This one’s even worse. It’s got live human actors, and they have different races for Neptune’s sake! What makes them think mermaids are white or black or whatever? The whole race obsession is their thing. And the idea that we’d even be attracted to a human male with those—legs! Ugh, it’s demeaning!” She downed the drink in one gulp and raised the glass for another.
“You think you’ve got it bad?” said Flitter. “They depict us as hanging around some snot-nosed juvenile delinquent who never grew up. Either that, or we’re on a little girl’s birthday cake. Sure, maybe I’m only two inches tall, but I’m over four hundred years old. I’m not some six-year-old human’s plaything.”
“How would you like to be stereotyped as standing around in a garden all day long?” Nobbin asked. “I can’t think of one gnome in ten that even has a garden. And don’t even get me started on that stupid Gnomeo and Juliet movie.”
“Trust me, it’s worse for us,” Seafoam said. “We’re either completely obsessed with human males, or we’re using our voices to lure them to their deaths. Now as appealing as that sounds, it’s not something we can actually do.”
“At least they view you as desirable,” Flitter said. “They see me as a floating puffball.”
“Well, to be fair girl, you do kind of look like a floating puffball.” Flitter bristled at that, and her glow intensified. Nobbin quickly intervened to head off a magical showdown.
“Okay ladies, let’s keep it civil. Also, need I point out, they don’t show either of you wearing one of those stupid pointy hats. I mean, how ridiculous is that?”
“I don’t know, Nob,” Seafoam said. “I think you’d look good in those hats.”
“Really? Do you want me keep serving you?”
“Hey, I’m kidding. Speaking of which, I’ll have another.” Nobbin filled her glass again.
“Have either of you seen those kitchen fairy figurines?” said Flitter. “They’ve got us living in strawberries or sitting on cupcakes. Cupcakes! Do you have any idea what that frosting would do to my wings? And we always have insipid smiles on our faces. Talk about degrading.”
“How about singing about how wonderful life is under the sea? Trust me, it’s a fish eat fish world down there.”
“Would you want to be depicted riding on a snail?” Nobbin asked. “They have little statues of gnomes riding on snails. What’s the point of riding something that’s slower than you are?”
“Yer all wrong, lad and lasses,” said one of the leprechauns from the corner. “We have it worse. At least they don’t have ye selling flaming breakfast cereal.”
The three of them looked at each other. Nobbin shrugged. “He does kind of have a point.”
“I think we can all agree, humans are the worst,” Seafoam said.
“I’ll drink to that,” called Garn from the end of the bar. They all raised their glasses and drank, and Nobbin got busy pouring another round.
About the Author
Craig Borri is an old software engineer with four kids, one wife, one grandson, and one somewhat annoying dog. His life is boring enough that he’d much rather write stories than biographies about himself. You can find him on Bluesky – @craigborri.bsky.social.
