I pay the guy no mind the first couple times he comes up. Young, kind of conceited-sounding, typical. He sits toward the back of the bar with a couple acting like they are on a date. But as the night wears on, he becomes a problem. He begins to linger at the bar, chatting up whoever is nearest. He acts in a way that forces us to watch him. But he isn’t the only distraction this night.
I broke it off after a month because Brandy wanted a boyfriend and I wasn’t boyfriend material. It was just nice to be wanted for a change. She didn’t take the breakup well. She started taking Tinder dates to the bar on nights I worked and making a show of making out with them. It was a different guy every time. I was amused and wondered how much of it was for my benefit. If any of it was, she didn’t know me very well. We live in the same neighborhood so we’d run into each other occasionally. It was usually cordial but awkward. Then, a year or two ago, she started showing up with the same guy—a dorky mustachioed fellow, much younger than the ones she used to go with. He looked to be her age. I was happy she found someone.
On my walk home after closing the bar, I see him sitting on the sidewalk by an underpass. His phone is by his side, lit up, blaring dance music. His head lolls back and forth. I almost stop to see if he’s okay, but keep walking. v
