It was only Wednesday and I was already exhausted, and sitting on the bus home from working was helping much. The constant jostle from the pothole-filled roads and the monotonous view of bland concrete box buildings didn't much improve my mood. Thus, on an impulsive decision, a decision that was becoming more and more common, I got off the bus a few stops early and made my way to my bar of choice. Found by searching "Bar near me" and going with the first result which had since then been my choice by habit.
The inside looked the same as always, and as I never paid much attention to the other patrons, the current herd didn't seem out of the ordinary. As had become my pattern, I found a seat that was decently separated from the others and ordered a cider before entertaining myself by scrolling my phone. I knew I could drink and doom scroll at home, and often did, but it felt somehow less depressing to so here. An adventure compared to my normal and very socially isolated routine, even though this activity itself was slipping into just another lonely component of my life's pattern.
That is why when a woman took a seat just a couple from me, I inwardly cringed, feeling like she was infringing upon my own little bubble. Outwardly I just kept scrolling, maybe hunching over a bit more. Thus, when the woman addressed me, it was something I had excepted and braced for, while at the same time it was a blindsiding surprise. Instinctively I turned to look at her.
Looking at her fully now, she clearly stood out from the rest of the bar, notably much better dressed than the rest of the place, especially compared to me. She wore a crisp white collared blouse and well-tailor pants that hugged her figure perfectly. Draped over the back of her chair was one of those country coat with the subtle plaid to it. Most distinct of all, though, was that her clothes still looked like they had life in them. Not drained and wrinkled by a day's stress and the drudgery of work that clearly had taken its toll on the attire of all the other patrons. Their obviously expense probably helped with that, but I still felt that she wasn't here for the same reason as everyone else.
With these thoughts being the only ones running through my head, my outward reaction was to just stare at her with a blank expression. After several seconds of my odd response but clear attention, the woman repeated her question,
"Rough day for you too?"
This helped my brain reboot enough to respond, "Um, yeah, I guess, work you know."
I said this with a shrug before looking back to my phone, only to quickly look back up at her. I didn't really want to have a bar chat with a stranger, no matter how romanticized they were shown to be in movies. Moreover I didn't wanted to share misery with someone whose definition of a bad day was probably that her stocks performed 1.5% below expected. But I also didn't want to be rude. Having already answered I damn well couldn't just go back to pretending I hadn't noticed her beyond my phone. This left me in a dilemma, which again resulted in my awkward silence. Somewhat to my luck and continued social strain she once again broke,
"And here I am making it worse by blundering my way into a conversation. Let me start properly. My name is Catherine Hearthwood. What is yours?"
As she said this she leaned forward and extended her hand.
"Oh, um yeah I'm Jane." I replied before glancing at her outstretched hand, then back at her admittedly earnest looking face. Crumbling to social pressure, I put down my phone and extending my hand to shake hers. Upon retracting hands, our differences couldn't have been more apparent. Catherine neatly and politely folding her hands in front of her on the table while I tucked mine back into myself.
Catherine continued, "Good to meet you Jane. Now, what has got you down? I am more than happy to lend a sympathetic ear."
"Uhhh... work, you know..." I stutter, pausing as I tried to think of anything more than bland and boring platitudes, "It just kind of soul sucking, that I sit inside all day and am still exhausted by the end."
"So you come here to give your mind a break while working out your liver?" she said with a smile. It was a really nice smile.
"No, no, this is rare for me. Normally I just go home to crash, I'm not a total drunk like the rest," cutting off abruptly, realizing what I had just said. I didn't even pay attention to who else came here. I might was well not insult them. Hunching over more, I peered around behind me. No one seemed to have cared. Expect Catherine, who, as I turned back, was fully grinning at my expense.
"Sorry, I didn't want to mean anything too harsh. I just worry; your figure is far too nice to be putrefied by alcohol."
"Umm, okay, thanks, I just didn't want to be rude you know." I said in a lower voice and another quick glance. "Today was more of a snap decision on the bus ride home."
And at this point, I began to wonder if my liver was really starting to do the talking, or if some other body part except my brain was, as I continued to ramble on,
"It just you know, when you think office job, you think of the big city, and getting to work in one of those towering buildings. Going to and fro in the hustle and bustle of the sidewalk or subway. But every job I looked at, all the places I could get into are all out here, in these office parks. Low grey concrete builds that all look identical. And all surrounded by either more concrete or the most boring landscaping you can think of. Lawn grass with copy pasted trees. It's like they designed it so it looks fine as you go zipping by in a car but didn't ever consider it would be someone view for0 an hour on the ride home"
