Sunday, March 4, 2012
"Sure, but that'll be the last. Were closing soon."
Mona knew the place was closing. That was the reason she didn't wait for the cocktail waitress. She knew if she waited she would have never gotten another drink, and she needed that drink so she could sleep.
She was upset. She sat and thought, smoke drifting softly from her mouth. "He should have called me. Why didn't he call? The bastard doesn't love me! He's just like Stan."
She was on the verge of crying, but fought back the tears. She didn't want to redo her makeup. "Damn Stan, we should have gotten married, but how was I to know he didn't want children? I'm thirty-five, I don't want to be alone forever. I miss Stan, he was good to me, we had so much fun together, but it's too late for that."
Too late it was, she couldn't look back. She knew that, it was just a silly little habit of hers that she couldn't help. It just crept up from time to time. The past. She had to think ahead, of today, and her plans of moving on with her new "gentleman", but where was he?
She lit one last cigarette, and finished her drink. Time to call it an evening. She felt better, if that's what the numbness was. She knew it was time to go.
Her Art Deco surroundings had become indistinct, a nightly occurrence.
Out front she waited for the valet to bring her car. Teetering a little, she smiled and thought about how good it is to have the best of everything.