The sun is sinking low into the hazy peach colored envelope of early evening sky as I attempt to unwrap my mind from the stiff hold its got around a stress filled day. I’m tired of people and the messed up games they play. Posturing. Posing. Pushing their fingers in your eye as though they aren’t just one among the many who haven’t a clue and don’t care to find one any time soon. I’m a good person at heart and underneath it all I try to do what’s right but it’s when life gets under my skin that I tend to size everyone around me up and cast judgment freely with abandon. He’s been giving me the silent treatment but probably only because he thinks I care more than I do. Truth be told I could use a break from the forced back and forth in any case, so win win, or same same or no harm no foul, or however you say it when it’s all for the best in the end. I’ve been through hell and back plenty of times, honey, so you can spare me your mediocre attempts at stirring up drama. There is so much horror in this world every which way you turn it often makes me shake my head in disbelief that a person would try to dust up even more. Everybody’s bored and everybody’s got an angle. Winters come and go and hearts change like the turning of seasons from spring to summer to fall. At the moment, two scrawny women at the end of the bar sip half priced pink cocktails and make fun of the girl across the room who is brazenly scarfing down hot wings in quick succession, one after another after another without pause. The older skinny women conclude that the wing girl must be stoned and then proceed to talk very loudly about this, and for far too long, pointing and laughing and generally behaving like absolute assholes before the one decides to go out for a smoke leaving the other to pay cash for a third round of tacky lime adorned drinks. Cruelty and booze. Ignorance and bad hairstyles left over from the ’80s. It’s a wonder any of us can stand each other with such impressively low standards of human behavior. I’m lost in thought and my own glass of Sav blanc when suddenly the pretty young bartender stands directly in front of me on the other side of the bar, stares at me, places her hands firmly against the wood, and takes a huge breath in, letting it out slowly. She’s looking at me because she is turning her back on someone else. I can see she’s had it and she’s trying to calm her growing frustration with two fresh idiots who have now entered the place looking for beers and whistling at her to get her attention. The bar is packed three deep and she’s already been working for seven hours. She hasn’t stopped moving for even one second since her shift began. I can see in her wide blue eyes that she, and I, would like to punch the whistling man in the neck. I look at her and shake my head as I tell her she’s amazing and I can’t believe you have to put up with this shit. Over her head on a huge TV screen, the well dressed, perfectly airbrushed newscaster announces that today Harvey Weinstein was convicted and sent immediately to prison. They finally called the sixty seven year old rapist a rapist to his disgusting bloated fucking face.