Nancy's Whiskey Pub. i grabbed an empty stool next to a young lady and exchanged some pleasantries followed by a bit of small talk. As the young woman drank she became saddened and proceeded to tell me her woes.
As her stories became more desperate I followed suit with my owned (silent) desperation.
I needed to exit but, How could I possibly be so mean as to just walk away? This kid is ready to slit her wrists, I thought. I prayed that she would catch a cock-blockers’ eye so that he would move in and I would unperceivably slither away. But this wasn’t going to happen, so I endured, never uttering a word myself, barely understanding her muted voice drowned out by the jukebox, occasionally nodding my head to emote an awareness of something uttered outside the range of my understanding.
Suddenly, an hour or so after it had begun, her life-story concluded. She inched closer to me, her mouth almost touching mine and shouted in whisky-tinged, husky, dulcet tone “this is the best conversation I’ve ever had. You’re such a great listener”.
It was then that she kissed me.