The lights come on before I notice the music had stopped awhile earlier.
They say women get better looking at closing time but over the years I believe I've built up a tolerance to such things. The barmaid who just moments before donned the nice smile and twinkle in her eye is now a wearied single mom with aching feet and wrinkles that only someone with too much stress carries.
She gives me a smile that carries no life but no ill either and places the final stub on the counter in front of me. I had the amount ready and I place it with the ticket.
Standing I search my pocket for my phone.
I smile as I recall just moments before this place was so loud my ears thumped.
Now I can hear my own heart.
Then with my back to the bar I pull out a 20, no two 20's.
Roll them tight and turn.
I hand the little tube to her and then turn to leave.
Once outside I fumble again for my phone.
That's when I feel someone grab my arm.
It's the barmaid.
“Thanks.” She says. “Really. See you tomorrow?”
"Sure." I say.
Open all night has apparently been waiting for me. “Need a ride?”
“Let's go.” I mutter.
I think how strange. The range of given emotions one can go through on a given night.
Open then asks “Where to? Hungry?” Yes I am I think but then again I know how I'll feel in a few short hours. “Yes I am.” I say. “You?” Here eyes smile in the mirror and she says “I guess so. It's time anyway.” “My treat.” I offer without thinking.
“DUH.” She laughs in response with a little smoker's cough.
I've been in this and so many other cities like it many times but I'm still a stranger.
A warm cab in the wee drunken hours traversing a bridge can bring a symphony of thoughts or a wish to sleep.