In a strange city, I met her at a bar. She wore a black business suit, and I guessed she was having an after work drink by herself. I was just killing time, wondering what to do next.
She started the conversation. "I haven't seen you in here before."
"Do you know everyone who comes in here?"
"Just about," she said. "I come here every day after work. Frankly, I'm in no rush to get home."
"What awaits you at home?" I asked.
"Nobody I care about any more. About three months ago, I found out he was fucking somebody at work. So now I've made it my purpose in life to get back at him, except I really don't want to fuck strangers."
"It sounds to me that you do still care about him," I responded, "otherwise you wouldn't care about the revenge. So what do you do? Do you screw someone at work?"
"No way I'm going to do that. And I come to this place because nobody at my work comes here. There's something I do, and when I come home, I tell him about it. It drives him insane. Wait two minutes, come to the door of the ladies room and knock. You'll find out what I do."