A quick drink with Magdalene

And before I knew it I was sitting with Magdalene telling her that I would have one- just one drink- with her before her date arrived. But then her date never arrived and I thought maybe it was me, but just for a second, and then the wood of the bar started to get to me. I started to picture all the trees, before they were furniture, when they were full of life, when they had their own stories to tell instead of just absorbing the drunken lies told by strangers.

Then a light flashed, like the light of last call, but more intense, and I wondered if it was a nuclear explosion, (and how horrible it would be to pass the nuclear holocaust in a bar, but how great at the same time), but then it was just the TV, but I had already started to think about Magdalene and her date that may never arrive. And I took Magdalene’s hand and I told her that no matter what it would be alright, and that I would be by her side.

But I could feel her kind of pulling back. Not obviously, but just a little tug. And she looked a little uneasy. And that’s when I saw who must be Greg approach and apologize and the look on Magdalene’s face would have been priceless if it wasn’t directed at me, and then I excused myself to the ladies room, to write this on the wall in poor handwriting.