Age: 23

Hair: Brunette

Heigh: 5′5ish

Method: On The Rocks

Advancement: One For the Road

I was in a weird mood last night. I had a tough day at work, had a tougher day with some family stuff, and have been having trouble sleeping…so I did something that I do extremely rarely. I went to a bar by myself and had a few drinks. I’ve bartended before, so I can attest that a lot of people do this on occasion. It isn’t always as sad and cliche as you see on TV, sometimes you just want to get out of your head, and sitting around your apartment is the last thing on this earth that you’d ever want to do. I will say that doing it makes me feel so incredibly old.

This bar is extremely close to my place, so I pop in once in a while and genuinely know all 3 of their bartenders. They all have been there a while. I walked in and ordered a scotch on the rocks. That is my go to self-loathing drink. Immediately Melissa, the bartender, fills it to the brim. Now, I know for a fact that this isn’t how much she should have been giving me, so I just smiled at her and said thanks. I don’t know if it was pity or fondness, and neither would surprise me. She got another glass out, and poured some for herself.  I mentioned how none of the places I ever bartended would ever let me do that, and how lucky she was. Before I knew it she started telling me her life story. I made a joke how I was the one who was supposed to be doing that since I was drinking alone on a Monday. She fired back with how I wasn’t alone, as she downed the rest of her glass.  We bonded over shitty relationships, shitty days, and lots of scotch.

Eventually, she told me she was kicking me out. Like I said, I was having trouble sleeping so I took a long walk to get a pack of cigarettes, something I only really do when I’m drunk and in this kind of mood. On my walk back, I bump into her locking the door. She just shakes her head at me. I started talking even more. And she points out how I reek of scotch.

“That’s all your fault”

“Remind me to cut you off after one drink”

“That might effect my tipping”

“You’re not a very good tipper anyway”

Next thing I know she’s up at my place and clothes are starting to get thrown in a trail to my couch and it all fades to black and I’m left alone on my couch with a hangover.