The lights in the club seemed to dim a bit for the patient at the bar. Her favorite drink became tasteless. She fussed with her lose blouse which appeared stuck to her skin. She paced the area around the barstools. Her Tiffany stilettoes felt like a pair of cheap beach sandals. She fixed her golden drop earring on one ear. The barman seemed to have been gone for an hour. The urgency in her for another order grew strong, but the barman would not come. Her piercing eyes shot across the floor. The guests in attendance were enjoying the short banter with the barman. "I'm going to kill this guy", she grumbled. Suddenly, the couple in attendance let out an earth shattering laugh. The barman realized it was time for him to leave and go back to his place behind the counter.
"Okay, so you're back!" she said with a sneer. The barman pretended not to hear her. Instead he went to the back and was out of sight for a short while. He thought he needed to compose himself as he sensed a war brewing .The mirror in the backroom was a refuse as here is where he had an opportunity to look at himself and have a brief self talk. "Look, remember you need to be in control," he said to his image .He also reminded himself that many people are hurt souls or more accurately beings who are often confused and unable to always take sensible actions in dealing with challenges. Very often they hit out at whoever is close because of their fears .With that in mind, he fixed his shirt, adjusted his pants and was back at the counter.
He was greeted by his guest seated on a stool, her head now buried in her folded arms lying on the counter. "Oh hi," he coaxed. He knew his next question was silly but asked anyway.
"Are you okay?", he asked, threading on needles. There was no response.
"Ma'am can I get you another drink?" She slowly lifted her head from her grieving lock. Tear-filled eyes greeted him.
"I'll get you another dink, " he advised.
"That would be fine," she squeezed an answer.
He quickly mixed her order. There was a long silence. She sipped and looked at him, more hurt showing in her eyes.
"Okay Sir," she offered.
"Yes ma'am," he replied
"Um, do you think it's fair when a woman wants to love her man and he just doesn't care?'
"No, I don't think so".
"So, tell me, what can she do?" (Wallace Paul) Copyright© 2022
Continues next week
"Okay, so you're back!" she said with a sneer. The barman pretended not to hear her. Instead he went to the back and was out of sight for a short while. He thought he needed to compose himself as he sensed a war brewing .The mirror in the backroom was a refuse as here is where he had an opportunity to look at himself and have a brief self talk. "Look, remember you need to be in control," he said to his image .He also reminded himself that many people are hurt souls or more accurately beings who are often confused and unable to always take sensible actions in dealing with challenges. Very often they hit out at whoever is close because of their fears .With that in mind, he fixed his shirt, adjusted his pants and was back at the counter.
He was greeted by his guest seated on a stool, her head now buried in her folded arms lying on the counter. "Oh hi," he coaxed. He knew his next question was silly but asked anyway.
"Are you okay?", he asked, threading on needles. There was no response.
"Ma'am can I get you another drink?" She slowly lifted her head from her grieving lock. Tear-filled eyes greeted him.
"I'll get you another dink, " he advised.
"That would be fine," she squeezed an answer.
He quickly mixed her order. There was a long silence. She sipped and looked at him, more hurt showing in her eyes.
"Okay Sir," she offered.
"Yes ma'am," he replied
"Um, do you think it's fair when a woman wants to love her man and he just doesn't care?'
"No, I don't think so".
"So, tell me, what can she do?" (Wallace Paul) Copyright© 2022
Continues next week