She sat at the bar focused intently on the images in front of her. Looking through familiar websites attempting to be unseen. Inside she was just happy to be out. Though her eyes were glued to the screen in front of her, her ears and senses were alive in the atmosphere. At the edge of the bar was a man watching local sports on the TV. He knew the staff by name, and they smiled lightly to his seldom but no less charming shouts at the TV when someone missed or scored. "You want another one?,” the bartender asked. “Haha! You know it!” the man replied. You could tell he had has his fair share for the evening, or even the decade for that matter, but despite his tragic existence, his laugh was infectious. Such enthusiasm, such happiness. It made her smile.
In the corner a man had been shuffling through the jukebox songs for at least 30 minutes. He was dressed casually, but appeared to have worked that day. His pants were stained on the knees and his suntanned arms. He kept looking at the juke box, flipping through songs, until a man at another table walked up to him. Jolted he seemed to laugh right away, and picked a mix of what would later be a tribute to the best of 80s glam rock bands. He stood next to her as he ordered a two pitchers of beer, and laughed, walking back to his table of 3 other men.
In the corner were two people, billiard cues in hand. She was sitting on the bar stool, and he was reaching for his drink right behind her, stabilizing himself with the cue stick in his other hand. She smiled as he leaned in closer, and he smiled too. He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed, before he gave a cocky smile, took a drink, and resumed his shot. She looked at him fondly, cheekbones tightened, eyes squinted, and the corners of her mouth slightly lifted. She was playing it cool though, didn’t want to give away too much about herself. She stroked her hair and adjusted her posture. Very aware he was looking at her.
“Can I get you something else?,” the bartender asked. She looked up and saw she had finished her drink. She titled the face of her phone away from the man. Her glass was empty. “Oh, sure. The same,” she replied. The bartender went to work pouring her shot of whiskey and a glass of beer. “I’ll close out,” she said when he returned. The bartender nodded.
The man sitting a few seats down from her looked at the bartender and looked at her. He had been sitting quietly in at the bar, quite unremarkable in every way. He didn’t say anything. He just sat and calmly sipped his drink. He looked over, “I haven’t seen you here before,” he said. The bartender walked up and handed her the drinks and her receipt and a pen.
She took the shot of whisky and chased it with a drink of beer, signed the receipt and returned her card to her pocket. With 80s glam now blaring in the back, the man at the edge of the bar now staring into his glass, and the couple now sitting on the stools next to the pool table talking, she replied, “No, I don’t come here often.”
She thought to herself, "I bet he does though. If he knew I wasn’t a regular." He smiled at her. “You busy right now?” he asked nodding at her cell phone. Quickly she pushed submit. “No,” she looked up, “I was just leaving.”
She stood up and returned the phone to her back pocket. Tipped the bartender with cash, and left, nodding a smile at the guy as the left. At home she walked in and sighed, turned the lights on, grabbed a beer, and opened her computer, and smiled.
How do I find people like me?
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