This has been quite the week.
I just returned home from another adventure with The Virgin Bartender. Well, not exactly.
He sent me a message this evening saying he had my watch with him at work, and I responded that I would stop by shortly. Shortly came, I stopped in, and he wasn't there. I know the host a little, I know the bar manager a little, I know everyone a little, and everyone stopped to ask me what was up, was I having a drink or? No, I'm waiting for The Virgin (I skipped the pseudonym for the folks who actually know him), I kept repeating to all these well meaning acquaintances.
With nothing better to do, I dug in my purse, opened my latest book, and tried to hide until he arrived. Minutes passed, and finally, mercifully, he was setting my watch next to me and kissing my cheek and then he was behind the bar, fixing cocktails, because it had just become busy. I wanted to nod bye, have some kind of kind gesture at his recovering my watch, but he was busy, and so I left. I walked down the street once again wearing my watch with the knowledge that I had just completed another version of Sunday morning's walk of shame, with many, many more observers.
Will I ever learn?
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