This Blonde Walks Into A Bar Alone

It's been decades since I walked into a bar alone, wait that's a lie. I walked into one a couple of years ago in Texas to meet up with my best friend, Angela, but that's a whole different story involving some businessmen, a few lies and a possum. 

Several nights ago I walked into a little tavern totally solo. It is one of the Happy Valley neighborhood hangouts, and I was hoping there would be no one there I knew. Since I was sans friends there would be questions, "What are YOU doing here?" "Hey, wanna hook up?"

If there was anyone there I knew, no matter my explanation, there would be a gossip wildfire that could never be put out. My reputation as the mom with the huge, multi-colored family would be replaced with one as the town skank. Hell, my own opinion has changed after seeing several people alone in that little bar a few times.

I made a bee line to the bar, I didn't look around at the people there, I avoided all eye contact. I found an empty seat near the back, out of eye's sight of the rest of the bar and grabbed it. I had a craving for fried liver and that's the only place I knew I could find it.  The bartender recognized me and we chatted a few minutes, he knew the liver was for me, that's about all I order to eat when I'm there. I had called in my order but had to wait about 20 minutes after I got there. So I sat back on the bar stool and screwed around on my phone. Thank God for smart phones!

The guy sitting next to me was quite boisterous, obviously drunk and was there to drink and drink a lot. He yelled out "HOW TALL ARE YOU?" Yeah, he had that much class. At least he didn't ask if I played basketball in school, I would have been arrested for a quick throat punch to the less than classy drunk. I don't ask short people if they were a jockey or heavy people if they were a Sumo wrestler, so give it a rest already. Have a little class, don't be an asshole.

I was trying to mind my own business but the drunken loudmouth would have none of it and peppered me with questions. I answered politely, but my answers were very short and sweet. Finally he turned to the woman to his other side. The first thing he loudly asked her was, "Hey, ya wanna see my new tattoo? You'll never guess what it is!"

"I bet it's an asshole," she responded, he was too drunk to get it. I heard chuckles from the rest of the people at, and around, the bar.

The guy proceeded to remove his shirt and flash his new tattoo. I didn't look, I tried not to hear. This guy was not only embarrassing himself, he was embarrassing everyone around. When he didn't get the response from her that he had hoped for he turned back to me. 

By this time I was really feeling uncomfortable. I'm usually with friends and I don't have to worry about idiots. But they weren't there. I was on my own and I didn't know how to handle myself. Miss self-assured was a bit on edge.

The guy next to me kept up the questions and general drunken chatter. That's when my savior appeared. The bartender showed up with my order.

"Here's your two orders of livers."

"WHAT," yelled the drunken man, "LIVERS?"

"Yes, livers," I said as I held my head high.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've EVER heard of!"

I felt victorious as I paid the bartender, grabbed my livers and strutted out of the bar leaving the drunk in a state of shock.