The gavel fell with a sharp rap on the oak of the judge's bench, announcing the end of my marriage. My ex-wife smirked at me and I wanted to rip her head off. Her new boyfriend put his hand on her shoulder and she turned to him, sliding under his protective arm. As if the little barracuda needed protection! I silently and sarcastically wished him good luck. With her he was going to need it.
Of course, they now had my house and my kids and even my damn dog all to themselves. I got most of the credit card bills, my pickup and my freedom. I also got to pay her handsomely for the privilege of living by myself. At least my attorney had gotten the judge to agree that she should make the mortgage payments. I've always been too nice a guy with women. I've also always fallen for the type of woman who is ready and willing to take advantage of that trait. Carol was a prime example of that. We were married for seven years and managed to put together a decent and comfortable life for ourselves. She worked and helped too, but it was mostly my construction wages that built the house (to her specifications) and bought the furniture.
I had remained sitting at the defense table after the verdict. I looked up and realized that most of the people had left the echoing court room. I slid my chair back and stood up. My attorney was standing off to one side of the bench talking to the court reporter. I decided not to interrupt him. I turned and walked out through the low gate in the railing between the court arena and the spectator's benches.
Outside the December sky had turned dark gray and I felt a chill. I went down the concrete steps and turned toward where I'd parked my truck. As I got close I saw the pink paper fluttering in the breeze. Perfect! Spousal support and a parking ticket, too! My day was complete. I almost ripped it up without looking at it, but something seemed odd about it. When I examined it I realized that it wasn't a ticket after all.
In ink and a feminine looking hand a note was written on the pink paper. "Allen: If you want some company and to drown your sorrows, meet me at Little Willie's." I looked up from the note. My eyes scanned the immediate area but I couldn't see anything or any one paying particular attention to me. If the woman who wrote it was watching, I couldn't find her.
I wanted a stiff drink, but I had planned on having it in my new studio apartment all by myself. I wasn't ready to start dating again. On one hand I was sorry my marriage had failed. On another, I was glad to be quit of that bitch, Carol. It had been years since we had anything like a real marriage. We were just putting up with each other. In fact, I had just been waiting until my daughters had both reached eighteen and then I planned to split. Carol beat me to the punch, apparently not caring that her children needed two parents -- preferably the original two. I hated the idea of her new Romeo -- if he lasted long enough with her -- acting like a father to them.
The rain started slowly. I got into the truck and started it. While I waited for it to warm up I reread the note. I couldn't think of any women I knew who might have written it. Most of the women in our circle had either been Carol's friends or married to mine. None of them would arrange to meet me this way -- at least I didn't think so. Folding the note and stuffing it into my pocket, I checked the mirrors and pulled away from the curb.
I hadn't decided if I was going to buy a bottle and head home or meet this mystery woman at the bar. At least I thought I hadn't decided. I did pull into the strip mall where the liquor store was and bought the bottle. Back in the truck I turned to look behind me and backed from the parking spot. With the truck pointed toward the street I waited for a break in the traffic. If I turned left, a couple of blocks would take me to Little Willie's. Or I could turn right and take the freeway entrance to get me home.
A city bus roared past and I saw my chance. I turned left without consciously willing my hands to do it. I am not one to let a mystery go without trying to solve it. The bar was on the left side of the boulevard. I pulled into the left turn lane and again had to wait. I let my eyes run over the cars parked at Willie's, but saw none that looked familiar. I got my break and I pulled into the lot. By then the rain was falling pretty hard. I was going to get wet, I decided. I'd had to go to court straight from the job site, so I wasn't dressed up anyway. My clothes would be fine for Willie's, which had a mostly working class clientele, with a few yuppies sprinkled here and there.
I dashed for the door and stepped under the awning. I ran my hands over my face and swiped the rain from my eyes. My reflection in the dark glass of the door showed me I was relatively presentable. Here goes nothing, I thought, and pulled the door open. I stepped into the dark and waited for my eyes to adjust. It was pretty dim outside so it didn't take long. I moved into the bar, my eyes scanning the room for a woman who was looking for me. I didn't see anything obvious.
Willie's is a big bar. There are booths around the perimeter of the room, and a scattering of tables between the booths and the bar. The bar is a three-sided rectangle butted up against the center of the back wall. From where I stood I could see that there was a pretty sparse crowd. Absently, I counted them as I moved around the room. By the time I got back to the door I'd reached thirty. I also hadn't been corralled by some leggy blonde, redhead or brunette who wanted to take me home and screw my brains out. There were a few women who didn't seem to be with men, but they were mostly in pairs or groups. None of them was sitting alone and none had made eye contact as I made the rounds of the room.
I took a seat at the bar. When the woman behind it looked my way I lifted a hand and called out my order for a beer. Until that second it hadn't occurred to me that the note might have been a prank of Carol's. The handwriting was not hers, but she could have had somebody at work write the note. I made a deal with myself. If nobody showed by the time I finished my beer, I'd go home. I sipped and lit a cigarette, though the air was thick with smoke already.
The barmaid brought my beer and set it down with a smile. "How you doin' today?" she asked. I didn't go to Willie's too often, but often enough that she recognized me. She was attractive and seemed to be on duty whenever I'd been there. I was trying to remember her name as I answered numbly.
"Not bad, but not good either," I said. I didn't feel like telling her about my day or my divorce. She probably didn't really care how I was doing anyway. I returned the smile as best I could. I guess she saw something on my face I hadn't realized was there, though.
"Hmm…you don't look like things are 'not bad'. In fact you look kind of like you just lost your dog." I had to laugh.
"Funny you should mention that," I said.
"Oh no! Don't tell me you really did? God, I'm sorry! It's just an expression I use."
"No, no. It's okay. It's just that…well, I really did lose my dog today, though I guess I could probably get visitation rights along with the kids."
"Uh-oh. Divorced, huh?" She was wiping the already shining bar with a wet rag as we talked. I looked up at her.
"Yup. Final today. In fact that's where I came from."
