Bourbon

I drank a bit more of my bourbon. It tasted sweet, but still had the bitter hard taste of alcoholic drinks.

A woman with black somewhat curly hair sat down in the empty stool next to me, “A neat old forester, please.” she said without looking at a menu.

I stared off into the distance, now thoughtless and empty. “Hey.” She said. I didn’t realize she was trying to get my attention.

“Hello?” She said again. I still was zoned out.

“Hey.” She said, loud enough to get my attention. “Are you talking to me?” I asked.

“Yes.” She answered.

I stared at her as she looked like she expected me to say something.

“Do you want something?” I asked.

“Sorry, I had this whole dramatic thing planed and-” The bartender set her drink down, “Thanks. I had this dramatic thing planned but that moment of awkwardness was just really distracting.”

“I’m- A- What?” I responded.

“Just listen to me for a few seconds.”

“Okay…”

“I’m breaking a ton of laws and putting myself in a lot of danger even being in proximity to you; but I just wanted you to know that he loved you; and that it wasn’t your fault.”

My confusion changed to fear, and existentialism. “Who the fuck are you?” I asked in a slightly rude tone.

“Oh come on, Anthony,” She responded, “If he was even a slight bit honest about who you were; I wouldn’t need you to answer that question.”

She drank her entire glass of whiskey and set it down on the bar. “Thanks for the drink. Good luck on your game tomorrow.” She swiftly and calmly left.

I tried not to to think about it; but I could think about nothing more.