Read Woman Walks into a Bar for Free Online Page B

I’m not the sort of person who expects good luck and happiness. In fact, I spend most of every day thinking of all the things that can go wrong, as if thinking of them will somehow stop them from happen­ing. When I was younger I never saw the bad stuff coming and I was never ready for it. So now I try and think of the worst thing. If I’m prepared for it, it won’t happen. And I try not to let myself feel too happy, because if I do I’m sure that I’ll jinx myself.
    But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking that it would be Brendan waiting for me in the bar tonight. I don’t know why. I just had this funny feeling in my gut that made me certain that it would be him. I tried to pretend it wasn’t there. But it was bubbling away all the time. And I was starting to believe it.
    â€œI hope he’s tall,” Beth said. “There’s nothing worse than kissing a man shorter than you are.” I decided not to rise to the bait.
    â€œAnd clean,” Mum said. “I hope he’s clean with a steady job.”
    â€œAnd funny,” Beth said. “A good sense of humor is really sexy in a man.”
    â€œBeth!” Mum and I said together. Beth shrugged.
    â€œWell, it is,” she said, holding up the magazine. “It says so in here!”
    â€œWell, at least if Joy’s arranged it he’ll be better than the last bloke you had a date with down the White Horse,” my mum said, deciding to change the subject.
    I frowned as it took a second for me to remember who she was talking about. And then it came back.
    â€œYeah,” Beth said. “At least this one should turn up.”
    The One I Didn’t Meet at All in the End Because He Never Turned Up
    I walked into the bar.
    I never usually go down the White Horse during the week, but I was glad to see it was almost completely dead. Just a few of the usual regulars stood around the bar, including Janet, the butchest woman I have ever seen, with her husband, Frank. Joy said if ever there was somebody with issues it was Janet, but not very loudly because she was as hard as nails and once broke this bloke’s arm in two places for calling her a lesbian. And I saw Old Joe sitting in the corner by the slot machine making his half a pint of Guinness last and chatting to whichever one of his invisible demons he’d brought out with him tonight.
    I looked at a few lads standing around one of the pub’s tellies watching a game of footy with their arms crossed. It couldn’t have been a local team playing because if it was, the place would have been packed with fans baying for blood.
    I couldn’t see my date or anyone who I thought might be him. I didn’t have a photo this time so I had to go on his very modest description of himself. Average height. Average build. Average looks. The space where it should have been on the website said “photo pending.” So I just had the description and a name: John Smith.
    And he’d said I would know him because he’d be the one drinking half a lager.
    â€œNot a very exciting name,” I’d said to Beth when she’d read out his message to me.
    â€œDon’t be an idiot,” she’d said. “What are you, twelve?” Then she’d realized what she’d said and we’d laughed.
    John Smith didn’t have an exciting name but I liked the sound of his profile. He didn’t sound flashy or like he was trying to impress. He sounded like a normal bloke and his message was sort of funny instead of trying too hard to be interesting. Beth decided I should give him a go. I couldn’t believe it when he suggested we meet in the White Horse.
    â€œHe must be local,” Beth said.
    â€œYeah,” I said, feeling suddenly worried. “But who?”
    â€œHe can’t know you,” Beth had said. “Because if he did he would never ask you out.”
    I blinked at her.
    â€œOn the Internet ,