After a long day of work at a lamp design studio where they’ve spent the last three hours discussing the ideal lightbulb angle for their newest lamp, Mary and Patricia roll into the bar for a couple drinks and dinner. “I really think 37.5 degrees is perfect,” Mary says when they’re settled at the bar with their first drinks. “It’s just the right compromise between style and illumination.”
Patricia downs a shot of vodka and groans. “No more work talk.”
“Okay, fine,” Mary says. “Well,” she adds after a moment,
Patricia pauses, a second shot of vodka halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“I’m not kidding,” Mary says. “I’m tired of being single.”
“You could get a dog,” Patricia says.
“A dog?” Mary says. “Can a dog make dinner for me? Help with dishes? Do my laundry?”
Patricia shrugs. “No, but just like a boyfriend it can unexpectedly eat your food, break your favorite mug, and push you to the edge of the bed and steal your blankets at night.”
Mary is about to reply when somebody catches her eye. She grabs Patricia’s arm and spins her around to face a table across the bar. “That guy over there in the green shirt.
Across the room, Robert and William are eating fries and watching the curling championship. At a commercial break, Robert glances around the room to see what else is playing on the bar TVs. He spots Mary and Patricia at one end of the bar and nudges William with his foot. “Hey, man. I think that woman over there is looking at you.”
William follows Robert’s nod toward Mary, who suddenly becomes very interested in the Bangladesh Cricket League game on the nearest TV. His jaw drops. “Dude,” he says,
“What?” Robert says.
William gets up. “I’m going to go talk to her.” He saunters over to the bar and leans on the counter next to Mary. “Hi.”
Mary turns away from the cricket game and smiles coyly. “Hi.”
William points to the seat next to Mary. “Can I sit here?”
“Sure,” Mary says. On the other side of her, Patricia starts gulping down a mostly-full glass of Long Island iced tea.
William sits down. “So,” he says,
Mary's smile broadens. “Aren’t you a charmer?” she says.
Patricia thumps her empty glass on the counter, pushes a handful of bills at the bartender, and stands up. “Well, I’ve got to get going.” William and Mary, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, don’t hear her. On her way out of the bar, Patricia kicks the leg of Robert’s chair. “Hey. You want to get out of here?”
Robert looks away from the blissful couple at the bar, then up at Patricia. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
End scene. And there you have it. A completely realistic and appropriate account of true love.
End scene. And there you have it. A completely realistic and appropriate account of true love.
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