Day 20

January 19
8:30 pm

Last night's still with us, tussled in our hair, rubbed into the gray beneath our eyes. We're still feeling winded from our epic tattoo experience and the long workdays we’ve both just come from, and we're determined to sleep tonight. I’ve got flip-flops on, because it’s spring, or at least it was for a few hours this afternoon, and I’m hoping the summery footwear will give me energy.

"I'm drinking water," Anne declares as we approach the doorway.
“Totally,” I say.
We plan to walk out the door in less than an hour.
“Noah said he was gonna bike over,” Anne says, “but I told him we weren’t waiting around for anybody tonight.”
“I love that idea,” I say. “I hope he gets here before we leave.”

The adorable bartender’s sitting with his adorable girlfriend at the far end of the bar, in seats I have come to recognize as theirs. They wave at us, then go back to their conversation. Before we even realize it, I’m ordering red wine and Anne gets a Blue Moon. So much for the water idea, I’ll think later as I’m falling into bed.

The Mohawk guy’s engaged in a deep conversation with a woman I feel like I’ve met before. They’re just a little too far away for me to see her properly, and I squint a couple of times, which never helps. I really need to get some glasses.

Anne fills me in on the clinic day today, which was a big one because it was the first time they’ve ever taken appointments, and I’m telling stories about my VA patients (“Hey Doc! If I’m still alive when you turn 60, wanna get married?”), and the wine and the Blue Moon disappear epically.

Men in black coats haul hulking instruments toward the stairs behind us. A muscly guy in a paint-splattered t-shirt shoots pool in the corner. I look over at the Mohawk guy, who’s now talking to a bunch of other people, and wonder if I’ll get up the nerve to say hi to him tonight.

The intense-looking beret-clad darts man from the other night is sitting next to me, I realize. Tonight he’s smiling and socializing normally, and I feel like I’ve misjudged him. I’m reminded that sometimes it takes a few tries to get someone right, that we miss so much when all we have are glimpses of people.

The adorable bartender and his adorable girlfriend walk over toward us on their way out. We introduce ourselves to the adorable girlfriend, and the adorable bartender’s like, “What? Y’all don’t know each other? I feel like a terrible host!” We know each other now, we say, and we all kind of smile at each other and I feel a little fluttery and excited.

The adorable bartender’s got a bottle of champagne under his arm, because they’re on the way to have oysters “and I figure if they’re supplying the oysters, we better bring the champagne.” Which sounds like an amazingly fair trade to me.

Anne and I are yawning. The Mohawk guy walks by and I think, Now’s my chance! But the moment passes and we don’t make eye contact and I remind myself that there’s time. There’s time, there’s always time, until there isn’t anymore. But tonight’s not the night.

We slide off our barstools, wave goodbye to Sean at the bar, and as we’re walking out we almost run right smack into Noah, who’s biking speedily down Franklin Avenue.
“You just missed us,” we call out to him.
“That’s cool,” he says, hopping off his bike and leaning it against a lamppost. “I’m gonna go across the street and get coffee.”

Tomorrow, we say. Bet we’ll see you tomorrow.