It was a Friday, almost six p.m., and I was sitting at a corner table in a local bar, finishing my fifth or sixth beer.A couple of guys in their mid-thirties were at the bar, likely unwinding after work.A woman about my age sat at a nearby table, nursing a drink and glancing at her phone.In the corner, an older man nursed a beer, looking like he rarely moved from that spot.A younger couple at a table nearby seemed more interested in each other than their food, hugging, kissing, and hesitantly groping.I guessed they hadn’t been dating long and probably hadn’t had séx yet.The woman kept checking her watch and her phone. Eventually, she dialed a number, and I could hear only her side of the conversation.She held the phone to her ear, tapping her foot impatiently. “Hello, is Dave there?” she snapped, frowning.She waited a beat, rolling her eyes. “No? Who’s this?”Her hand flew to her forehead as she scowled. “What the fúck! I’m his girlfriend! I’ve been with him for six months!”
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