At the Bar

pte

a moment before stepping inside, letting the familiar scent of alcohol and aged wood settle over m

's young, probably mid-twenties, with a practiced sm

says in passing, her to

my Diet Coke and Bacardi drink. I try to smile at her after saying this, but as she

ink close to me as I sit at the bar. I'm sure she said the greeting in hopes of a higher tip as it is a you

playing trivia, singing or whatever else. The owners have tried to shred the dive

d drink as everyone else has a beer, but that's normal. For whatever reason the universe has, I'll always stand out somehow. A

hanging off each other, drinking and trying to have a good time. I even spot a few that are arguing, bu

e making. While they think the pool table is hiding them, a woman leans back in a chair looking very

t was born with. I'm sure later, once everyone gets liquored up, t

, I blend in with the furniture, not wanting people to notice I'm here alone. Otherwise, it would be too easy to become th

ay more bearable. Well, that's a lie. I did know it was Valentine's, as it had been thrust in my face all day long, bu

ut I'll tell the guy sucking the tit that he's sucking a boob, not attacking a mo

Maybe that hopeful part of me thinks I'll meet someone tonight, which is

. I'm shy and quiet around strangers. I really wish I wasn't, but that is how I am. I wouldn't say I'm socially awkwa

h any of the women in here. Again, I'm not country, which most appear t

the bar says emotionally to his friend. He doesn't say this

to be in late twenties, is wearing a blue shirt with his name sewed in on the right side of his chest. From the look of him and his

om the look of his friend, he seems embarrassed that his friend is crying. He

s, fighting to hold back his tears. There's no doubt he really believes this. An

broke up about four weeks ago. Or to say correctly, she broke up with me.

the woodwork wanting to be "my friend." She wanted to go out almost immediately, but I knew it was a bad idea as I was dealing with a