But I can’t go in, can I? Because Bibi might be working. And I’m not ready to see her.
Am I?
What if I am?
Sigh. WhyamI still angry anyway?! If I’m really so scared of this new relationship of theirs ruining my friendship with them, why am I going out of my way to actively ruin it myself? Wouldn’t it be better to stay their friend and let what will be, be? Either I cut them out now on the off-chance the situation will end with me being cut off, or I stay their friend and hope for the best. And if it’s jealousy that’s keeping me away, then I need to STFU.
Honestly, I think it’s only really my ego preventing mebeing OK with this. The idea of my ex and my friend. The idea of them choosing each other over me. That is a hard pill to swallow.
But you know what’s really easy to swallow? A drink.
My need for booze trumps my fragile little ego. I’m going into The Swab.
My stomach is in bits as I enter, but the slightly plasticky smell of warm air blasting out of the heaters immediately soothes my many ills. It’s relatively busy, I note, a bit surprised. Although – I check my watch – it’s gone eleven and it’s a Friday night. We tend to be moreoff-peakpub users, when it’s quieter. They really should give us a discount.
I scan the room, frantically. No sign of Bibi. Maybe she’s out the back, or – god forbid – actually serving customers?! I take a tentative seat at the bar and wait to be served, my back complaining about all that stupid walking.
A woman sitting a couple of stools away leans in my direction, nearly toppling over as she does.
‘Hey.’ She is a bit slurry. ‘You wanna shot? I just bought some shots, you want one?’ She waves at the barman. ‘Another apple sour!’
I like it when drunk people insist on buying you shots. If I was given a choice, I’d probably say no thanks, but when they insist, it’s great! You have no power, youmusthave the shot.
He dumps the small green liquid in front of me and I grimace, unsure how well I can handle an apple sour tonight. We cheers and I thank her, downing the shot in one and ordering a large House of Virtue gin as a chaser.
‘Bad night?’ she says and I laugh a short, sharp acknowledgement.
‘Very, very bad.’
‘Please tell me about it.’ She turns on her stool, nearly falling again. ‘I need to hear someone else’s pain – I got made redundant today. It’s the third time it’s happened to me.’
I gasp. ‘Jesus, that’s horrendous, I’m so sorry. My friend got made redundant last year and it’s been so—’ I stop myself. ‘Well, anyway, I’m sorry.’
‘Not your fault,’ she shrugs, waving down the bartender for another green shot. ‘It’s my own bad choices that got me here. I work in a dying industry. Every time I start a new job, six months later, the place bloody shuts down.’
I nod sympathetically. ‘The world keeps changing,’ I comment, aiming for wise and sounding grandfatherly. I add quickly, ‘I’m Esther.’
‘Demi.’ She offers a floppy hand to shake. ‘Nice to meet you, Esther. So? Tell me why you’ve had a shit day.’
‘Well…’ I take a long, deep breath, deciding she’s drunk enough not to remember anything I tell her. ‘I’ve been on this rather stupid mission lately. Hunting down all my exes to see if I’d let anyone really brilliant pass me by.’
‘Wow, exes,’ she laughs lightly, leaning her stool back on two legs. It’s very difficult to focus when I’m constantly worried she’s about to crack her head open. I try to distract her with my life story.
‘I know!’ I nod. ‘It’s been an absolute rollercoaster. Anyway, it’s mostly been a shitshow of bad choices andembarrassing rejections.’ I pause. ‘But tonight, I thought my first love might really turn out to be The One.’ I look down. ‘He isn’t, though. He’s a really nice guy – really handsome and optimistic and kind and sweet – but it’s just not there between us. There’s no chemistry. It was like kissing the back of my hand.’
‘Give him my number, I don’t mind kissing hands.’ Demi slumps forward a bit.
I ignore her comment. ‘So now I don’t know what to do. I’ve kind of thrown everything I had into this project and not one of the exes was really a decent option.’
‘Everything?’ she blinks and I nod.
‘Seriously! It started off well. I re-found an old friend, which was so lovely and I even put some ghosts to bed. But everything seems to have gone to hell lately, and I’ve re-lost that friend, plus another one.’
Demi blinks some more. ‘Oh no!’ She swigs her drink. ‘That’s the problem with exes. They bring nothing but trouble.’
I huff. ‘That’s true enough!’ I wave at Franco for a wine. ‘I just panicked, thinking I’d never meet anyone. I read this old article that said you only really get seven relationships in your life, and one of them is your soulmate.’
Demi lurches forward. ‘Wait.’ She’s looking at me with more sober eyes. ‘Not inCosmour? Fromyearsago?’
