Saturday Night at the Bar

I stepped into the bar and took a quick look-see. There were just a few patrons so far, and my favorite table was still empty. Relieved, I walked to it quickly and took a seat.

It was Saturday night, and here I was at my favorite bar, about to drink alone. I used to frequent this place with one of my best friends, but we had a falling out a couple of years ago. Still, I kept coming here on Saturdays, as we always did before he moved away, continuing the weekly tradition of drinking a few bottles to top the week off.

I signaled to Danica, the waitress, who nodded at me. She’s a real pretty girl, and I’ve always wondered why she kept on working for a place like this. I asked her out once, but she wasn’t interested, and that was that.

Danica came over with a bucket of Red Horse beers resting on a bed of ice. “Drinking alone again, Jay?,” she asked, as she set down the beer on my table. “You don’t like company, do you?”

I shrugged. “Just prefer my own.”

She looked at me worriedly, then shook her head. “All right then. I’ll serve your tofu sisig when it’s ready.”

I nodded at her. “Thanks, Danica.”

She smiled in response and moved to another table.

I picked up a piece of tissue and pulled out my first bottle of the night. Taking up the bottle opener Danica left next to the bucket, I flicked the bottle open and smiled at the satisfying pop. I then wiped the lip of the bottle as I glanced around, curious about the other people in the bar.

There’s the old couple who always came in before me, and they were holding hands over the table, enjoying their sizzling steak a la pobre with two tall beer mugs, as they usually did. They seemed to recognize me after a few visits, so when I caught the eye of the old lady, she signaled to her husband and they both turned to wave at me. I waved back at them with a smile.

Boisterous laughter came from a corner, and I discretely stole a look at the party of four on my far left. It looked to be a double date, and the two guys were guffawing and high-fiving each other, probably over some joke. Their girlfriends were drinking their margaritas and making wry faces while sharing a look between them, a glance of shared pain and understanding.

I took a sip of my beer as I leaned back and considered my own personal companion of the night: my trusty smartphone, which lit up with a notification right there and then. I unlocked it and saw a message from my old high school friend.

“Sorry Jay, I can’t make it tonight, I’m at a family outing. Maybe next week?”

I smirked as I exited my inbox of tonight’s rejections. I turned off my notifications, slipped my phone into my bag, and looked up to see Danica coming up to me with my pulutan of choice.

I took another swig of my Red Horse, enjoying my own company on a Saturday night.

–

For C.

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First written February 6, 2018.
#131