“What, huh? No, I’m fine.”

The nice person next to me wondered if I needed anything. The ceaseless tears and sniffling since I sat down has put him in an awkward position. From the look of his casual v-neck sweater and designer jeans, he’s here to meet someone. One thing is certain about my dive bars, no one dresses up to drink alone. The bars for that sort of thing have a completely different vibe. Both smack of desperation but in different ways. He is definitely not equipped to actually hear about my personal issues. Fortunately, I don’t come here to share them. One of the first lessons I’ve learned is that no one gives a shit about me.

I gave up on getting laid here back in 2016. The day of the white woman was over before it dawned. We’ve held a tenuous control over the ubiquitous white male for the past few decades. Like teaching a gorilla sign language, the translations are muddled. I’m sure we both want good things and prosperity… just not entirely sure we picture the same community at the end of it. I know the main issues afflicting people in my immediate vicinity. Materialism and consumer mindsets are foundations of the current social economy. Either own lots of old shit or own the newest crap possible. Either way, spending your dollars ensures maximum coolness.

Someone asked to friend me on Facebook today. She said, “You know, just in case.” Maybe I am that sad. I don’t know what I look like most of the time. I don’t feel more sad than I did a few months ago. Maybe it’s worked its way into my complexion? Maybe I don’t remember all my conversations. I know the only time I can tell the truth is when I’m drunk. Probably need to fix that.