Sorrow

I saw the look on his face as she walked away. He didn’t need to wait five minutes, he already knew. He looked right at me and said, “She’s not coming back.” I looked into his eyes and I did not see anger or shock, but instead I saw sorrow. Sorrow in the realization that this was his life. A woman he had been talking with for some time had said she was going to the restroom as she got up. Innocent enough, but he knew she wasn’t returning. He wasn’t surprised. I don’t think this was his first experience with this maneuver.

I hadn’t witnessed the entire scene play out as I had only entered the bar 15 minutes earlier. As usual, I was in my own little world and was not paying much attention to those around me. I had assumed they were together when I walked up to the bar and not until he spoke to me, after she walked away, did I realize that he was also in the bar alone. It was then that I realized that he had tried to get to know this girl on the bar stool. After a few exchanged words, I realized that I may be looking into a mirror.

It made me wonder what was in store for me. Granted, I don’t really go to the bar with an intention of meeting a woman. I am not really sure how much you can expect from a chance meeting in a bar, especially under intoxicated circumstances. The odds of that type of encounter becoming anything more than passing ships in the night have got to be infinitesimal. I think, with the right frame of mind, the bar scene can be fun. However, to expect that the beginning of a beautiful relationship is sitting at the end of the bar, is setting yourself up for sorrow. Realistically, you have a better chance of winning the lottery. Powerball here I come.