I get a drink at the bar I often go to on Tuesday nights and see you there. Right off the bat I’ve got questions. R U single? Probably, but then where is your man right now. Why isn’t he sitting next to you? R U a lezzie? Is that it? Is that why you haven’t looked my way? Because you don’t go my way. What is your sign? Girls like a guy that knows his Zodiac. I know my Zodiac. I’m a Gemini, and I’m pretty sure you’re a Libra, and you should know what that means.
I get another drink at the bar I often go to on Tuesday nights, just off Alberta, not far from where I live, and where you have come, maybe for the first time I am thinking. R U from around here? Did you just happen by, a drink at the bar after work just like me, or R U meeting someone? R U here right now because you are supposed to be meeting me? I could believe in fate if it brought me to you.
The bar where I go to get drinks after work on Tuesday nights is on 22nd, on my way home. I work until six, drive here, park close, and get drinks until I’m good and drunk. Tuesdays are my Fridays and I spend them alone. The food is good here at this bar and I get Nachos or a Bratwurst, tater tots or some fries. I get another drink to go with whatever I am eating and get another look at you, still alone.
I’m pretty quiet mostly and the bartender knows me by drink if not by name. It’s Tuesday night, which evidently isn’t your Friday because after finishing your drink you leave and it’s still early. I push ketchup around my plate and finish what it is I am drinking. I get the bill and leave too much of a tip because I see this same waitress every week and I want her to keep on giving me my drinks the way I like them.
I leave my car by the bar and walk the rest of the way home. In the door, up the stairs, I make it to my bedroom and get out of my clothes, to sit at the computer and write.
I am a: Man
I saw a: Woman
When: Tuesdays, mostly
I’m in love with everyone.
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Portland Fiction Project
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