The Loneliest Girl At The Bar

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She had had three drinks, which was plenty. But she wasn’t about to stop. She couldn’t stop until she forgot why she started throwing them back in the first place. Of course she understands that drinking to forget doesn’t ever work, but that’s not stopping her now. This wasn’t the first time her heart had been broken. Oh no, this wasn’t even the first time he had been the reason. As she tossed back the last of her vodka-soda, she vowed it would be the last.

Sure, everyone has flings. It’s nothing new. The heat makes you do some crazy things. Jump on a boat with strangers, stay out until the sun comes up (which leads to going to work on no sleep), kissing boys in bars, and it somehow makes you believe you’re falling in love with someone you know almost nothing about except that he makes you laugh until you cry and you love when he has no shirt on.

It seems like nothing bad can ever happen and life will always be this reckless and carefree. No matter how many years you have seen pass, you always seem to forget that eventually the days get shorter, the boats are put away and life isn’t always sunshine and vodka with your best friends. This is really a shame.

The past three months had been a whirlwind of sticky sweat, kisses in the middle of the sidewalk, dancing until the sun came up and more mind-numbing sex than one person should be able to handle. It never occurred to her that this wasn’t how normal people live their lives. It just never feels like real life. She would end up in his bed almost every other night. She met his brother, she did car bombs with his best friends, they would stay up all night talking and kissing and laughing. This wasn’t like any other relationship she had ever been in; this was exciting, he knew just what to say and just where to touch her.

The biggest issue of course, was the fact that they both agreed from the beginning that this was nothing more than sex. That always seems to work out just swimmingly for both parties, doesn’t it?

So here she sits, surrounded by friends and coworkers in the late-night bar next door after work. They all laugh about the night’s events and discuss how busy they were while throwing 20s at the bartender since he always takes care of them. Shots are dripping down their fingers as they all cheers to another successful week completed. She goes through the motions; laughs when acceptable, shares her two cents about the group of college kids who stiffed them on a $100 tab, but this isn’t where she wants to be. She checks her phone; still nothing. What’s new?

As the ice begins to melt in her fourth and final drink she decides it’s time to head home; it’s never fun to be at the bar when the lights come up (especially when you just got done working 10 hours at the bar next door). Giving no thought to it, she checks her phone once again only to find that she has nothing new to overanalyze. With one big swig she finishes her vodka soda, grabs her coat, and hails a cab. There’s always next time. TC mark

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