Up & Out - Ariella Papa [102]
My phone beeps and I get another message from Kathy. For some lucky-for-her reason my phone didn’t ring. What the hell is wrong with my phone? She is really sorry, but she can’t make it and she hopes I’ll understand. I guess I’m grateful that she doesn’t offer a lame excuse and I’m sure she’s psyched that she didn’t have to talk to me. We are all getting so good at avoiding the obvious. I let the hostess know we’ll only be two. It’s my second change in eight minutes. She smiles politely at me and tells me to let her know when I’m ready to sit down.
So that leaves Beth. I decide to give her forty-five minutes. Of course Nobu Next Door isn’t going to give me a table until my whole party is here. I order a Pellegrino at the bar. Any minute the hostess is going to come over and tell me I’m a friendless loser and I should just go home.
But I can’t go home, because stupid Tommy is having a stupid date with Nanny Nancy. Forty-five minutes pass and another Pellegrino and a glass of expensive chardonnay because I’m worth it.
Beth isn’t going to show.
I could just eat some rock shrimp tempura by myself. I’ve already spent what it would cost for the plate on drinks. I’m sure I won’t enjoy it. I have been spending too much time alone lately to eat my favorite meal by myself.
Why do food and friendship have to be so complicated these days?
I settle my bill and leave. The hostess smiles warmly at me. Her life is simple, I’m sure. She eats tempura anytime she wants.
It’s still light out. I decide to walk home. I’ll walk slowly since these sandals are still killing my feet. Maybe by then, they will be in his room. Ugh! I don’t think I can handle hearing it. I can’t go home. I’ll go to Rudy’s or something. They’ve got cheap beers and free hot dogs. I’ll drink and eat and it will all be great. But I’ll probably have to dodge vomit and drunk boys. And what if Tommy wants to take the mommy substitute to one of his favorite bars and then they see me and it’s “Oh, look, here’s my ex-girlfriend who is going to be listening for squeaks in the bed—what is she doing out alone?”
I can’t go anywhere in my neighborhood.
I see a sign for cheap beer, like some kind of scarecrow in the road. Ah, yes, I will shoot my film about solitude in black and white and color and it will be groundbreaking. But I hadn’t expected cheap two-dollar pints in this part of town. I’m sure it’s shit beer, but Tommy and Nancy will never come down here. It’s safe.
I go inside. It’s a pub that looks brand new. The metal of the stools glistens. The wooden bar and tables aren’t scratched. It feels like winter in here, not hot and sticky like it is outside, but warm.
I sit at the bar. The cute bartender asks me what I want. I can’t believe I can get a pint of Magic Hat #9 for two bucks, but I can. I do.
“Why is it so cheap?”
“We just opened.”
“It’s cool. What’s the name of it?”
“We don’t know yet, still deciding. It’s a sore spot. What’s your name?”
“Rebecca.”
“Yeah, it could be anything.” I could go for a little innocent—or not so innocent?—flirting. Bartenders always seem to work for Lauryn. This bartender is cute, but he is distracted by the guys at the other side of the bar.
There is a group of girls in a corner table, drinking bottles of beer. I’m guessing they’re a couple of years younger than I am. They’re at the stage when friends are still everything to them. I check to see if Beth’s called. She hasn’t.
“Something wrong?” I look up at a guy in a chef’s jacket and plaid pants. He’s come from the kitchen.
“No,” I say, and try to smile. “I just…no.”
“Wanna another beer?” I still have a couple more gulps left in my glass, but I shrug. He goes to the keg. “Magic Hat, right?”
“Yeah. Do you guys sell cigarettes?” I might as well smoke if I’m going to be drinking