apart in a bar

I am always amazed at the bar scene, no matter when I go or who I'm with. The people, characters, and faces that you see are bar none the salt and color of the earth. Last night, I partook in some festivities with strangers, only partially knowing one person, and therefore I spent the majority of my evening watching, learning, and remembering how awful I am at first impressions.

There was the pretty engaged girl getting tipsy with all her friends, and guys with wandering eyes hitting an invisible wall when their eyes finally made it down to her fingers. She got up and danced on the floor, only her, twirling about, and I wonder if somewhere her fiance was doing the same thing, or waiting at home for her, or her dancing was some sad release of freedom she found.

There were the "Steve's", boys dressed up as men in nice shirts and slacks, bragging about the money they make not only to each other but to women, silent lures in a fishing hole. They used special words to describe their jobs, puffing up their selves with every breath. Their eyes roamed to and fro in the low lit bar, roaving to whatever victim would be next to their words and phrases.

Then there were the potentially future alcholics. The ones that came by themselves, haunting the corners and barstools, looking solemn, trying to escape whatever was beyond those doors. There was the disfigured bartender, who knew everyone's drinks and did his best "Cheers" impersonation.

And then there was me. I guess I fall somewhere in between all of those people. Just floating in the stage lights like some small piece of dust off the walls, caught in the brown glow, frozen in my steps. Just watching, understanding, trying to ask questions, watching them fall very short of their mark.

Just some observations.