a bar near the airport

leather chairs, inattentive bartender, ferns, and low light

my divorce just went through

i am wearing a brown dress – chocolate brown,
flowy in the way of a polyester blend

an evening dress, not too disco – knee-length or a little longer, 
low enough in the front and back so that i do not have the option of a
bra, spaghetti straps that cross in an X on my back

i am kind of like willona woods from good times – with style and sense
enough to drink at bars far from the gossips in the apartment complex

legs crossed at the bar, mind wandering from my chivas regal on the
rocks to the tv news to the half dozen or so

other patrons tucked in darkened corners of the bar

the shows change and a man walks in

in the corner of my eye, i can see he is attractive,
handsome in an ugly way

his features too big for his gaunt face, his scrawny shoulders
hunched over as he lurches into the bar

he sits down next to me, well, not next to me
but one chair over and close enough

i order another chivas

the handsome ugly man holds up two fingers to indicate
to the bartender that there will be two of those

he turns towards me

i turn halfway to face him

one of the straps from my dress begins
to slowly slide off my shoulder