The Morning of Yesterday
You walked in; heels dragging on the rosewood floorboards, shoulders slumped. You looked as though you have not slept well in days; world-weary and wanting to give up. I sensed your presence way before I saw you. What was it that made you so special?
“Hey…” you sighed, as you dumped yourself on the wooden stool, “What’s the strongest thing you have here?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Drinking away your problems? That’s new.”
“Yeah well, that’s all I can think of right now. And there’s something about this place that somehow makes me feel better.”
“Huh… Even so, you shouldn’t be drinking the problems away.”
“Yeah. Whatever. Can you just get me the strongest thing you have?”
I shook my head as I got to work; my body moving automatically after months and years of practice. I wondered briefly if you still like lemon-flavored drinks.
“Here,” I said, slamming the whiskey glass on the table, spilling some of the mix, “Enjoy,” sarcasm evident in my voice. You looked up, shocked.
“You know I can complain to your boss about this,” you said haughtily, spoiling for a fight.
“Well, go ahead, ‘cause she’s standing right in front of you,” I shot back.
Your eyes widened. Obviously, nobody kept in touch with you. “You own this place?”
“Yeah, anything wrong with that?” I challenged, raising my chin.
“No… No… I just thought… well that this was temporary… that you’d go back doing your PhD…” you struggled to make sense of it all.
“As I said, people change.”
“That’s obvious,” you eyed me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time in years. Defiance swept through me. A bar job had requirements and one of them was the skimpy clothes.
“So,” I leaned forward, “What’s bothering you? You never drank your problems away before.”
“Problems… Trina… You know the rest…” you mumbled, as you picked up the whiskey glass and sniffed it carefully, “Hey… this smells lemony!”
I shrugged, “Sun under the Tropics; another house special,” I paused for a moment, “Actually most of our drinks are special. Of course we do offer the usual though.”
You sipped the mixture cautiously, as if you expected it to explode anytime soon, “What’s in here? It tastes like lemon juice…”
I smirked, “Maybe because it is?” I turned and walked away, “You shouldn’t be drinking your problems away. Get up and solve them,” I said to you as I walked away, leaving you there speechless.
You left your drink on the bar as you run after me, “What time do you end? Can I take you out?”
I cocked an eyebrow, “Does the phrase ‘You have a girlfriend’ ring a bell in your thick head?”
You stepped back stunned. You did not expect the harsh tones or the cruel words. “Hey, I was just asking. If you don’t want to then it’s fine with me. Didn’t need that,” you bit out, before turning around, “Wished I hadn’t come,” you muttered as you grabbed your coat and walked out of my bar.
Once again, I stared at your receding back, torn between the desire to run after you and the need to walk away like did before.
Picture By : Royston Toh
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