meaning. Really, the only response that resonates at all is, That sucks .
On some level, I should trust Heidi knows what sheâs talking about. She works at an education nonprofit, her third in the four and a half years since we graduated college. She knows all about budget cuts and empty coffers and organizational mismanagement. At one point, between her last job and her current one, she was working three different side jobsârestaurant hostess, dog walker, and farmersâ market cashierâjust so that she could make the payments on her many student loans. Yet each time her company let her go, she managed to land on her feet, continuing to supplement her meager income with her weekend job at the farmersâ market. If she has made it work, then maybe I will too.
Heidi takes another swig of beer and sets her glass on the counter. âGotta run to the ladiesâ. Youâll be okay?â
âIâm unemployed, not suicidal.â
âYouâre a pain in the ass, is what you are,â she says. âIâll be back in a minute.â
She scoots down the narrow hallway to the bathroom, and I redirect my gaze to the counter as I swirl my empty glass by the base. There is an inch or two of beer left in Heidiâs glass, and, not caring if itâs rude or wrong, I grab her glass and finish it.
âLooks like you need a refill.â
The man from the end of the bar is standing behind Heidiâs chair, his hands tucked into the pockets of his puffy black vest. His hair is the color of milk chocolate, wavy and thick with narrow sideburns, which frame his slender face. He looks vaguely familiar.
âI guess I do,â I say, looking into the bottoms of my glass and Heidiâs.
The man flags the bartender. âHey, Eli, another for the lady and her friend,â he says. âAdd it to my tab.â
I dismiss him with a wave of my hand as I let out a small burp under my breath. âThanks, but Iâve got this. I can manage four bucks.â
âIâm sure you can. But I overheard you and your friend talking, and it sounds like youâve had a rough day.â
I raise an eyebrow. âYou were eavesdropping?â
His cheeks flush, and he rubs his narrow chin. âIt was hard not to. Your voiceâletâs just say it carries.â
âOh, so now Iâm a loud talker? Great. Thanks. Thatâs just what I needed to hear.â The bartender places the filled glasses in front of me. I clear my throat. âIâVE GOT THIS,â I shout. âBUT THANKS FOR THE OFFER.â
The manâs face turns even redder. âSuit yourself,â he says. âBut donât tell me chivalry is dead. I tried.â
âBadly,â I mumble into my beer.
âWhatâs that?â
âBADLY,â I shout. âFUNNY, IF IâM SUCH A LOUD TALKER, THEN WHY CANâT YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT IâM SAYING?â
âSydney . . . ?â Heidi pokes her head out from behind the man in the vest. âWhy are you shouting?â
âGee, I donât know. I guess I canât help it. According to this a-hole, Iâm a LOUD TALKER.â
Heidi smiles nervously. âHow many of those gin bottles did you drink before you got here?â
âWhat do you care? I can do what I want. Itâs a free country.â
Apparently in my buzzed and self-pitying state, I have resorted to the rhetorical sophistication of a six-year-old.
âMaybe another drink isnât such a good idea,â Heidi says, eyeing the bartender and giving him a not-so-subtle sign to cut me off.
âOh, yeah? And whyâs that?â
Heidi shifts her gaze from the bartender to me to the guy in the vest and back to me again. âBecause I think we need to get something in your stomach.â
âThey serve food here,â I say, now invoking the stubbornness of a three-year-old. At this rate, Iâll be on the floor in the fetal position by the
John B. Garvey, Mary Lou Widmer