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June 16, 2009
Jack was speaking with his hands and brushed his screwdriver over onto the table. I tried to prevent the drink from spilling onto the pink carpet and onto his shoes while he notified the clerk.
"Want me to get you another drink?" I asked.
"Don't worry about it," Jack said. "So why haven't you ever been with anyone longer than six months?"
I wished I hadn't brought it up.
"Well, I don't feel like I've missed anything," I replied, relaxing at the dots, pulling back the ball with some slack, thinking about a book I read and getting another strike.