He was a bartender and I was the entertainment manager. One night he came to my apartment after work. We were a little drunk and both, to this day, argue about whether or not we made out. (Whether or not we did, we both decided it was not somewhere we needed to go.) For about 5 years, every time we saw each other we hugged but quickly moved on. Last summer one of my best friends walked up to me at Sundown and said, “Wanna see a picture of the guy I’m gonna marry?” I took one look and said, “No you aren’t, that’s B.” They dated a month or so, and he dated another friend after that. (He wasn’t really known for being a good boyfriend!)
I saw him the night before I left for a music festival and tried my best to hit on him. I was with a guy friend, so of course he thought I was with him. I thought he was blowing me off. I saw him the next week at a sushi restaurant, and he was excited to see me, but being a brat, I ignored him for spite.
The next Monday, even though it was the usual, I specifically didn’t want to go to happy hour with my friends. I don’t know why. I decided to just go home, which isn’t at all like me. When I got to the Old City, there was a train stuck on the tracks. I look to my right and saw Barley’s and immediately thought of $2 pints. I walked in with the paper to do the crossword and a book so I wouldn’t look like a lonely loser. As soon as I sat down, he walked in and asked if he could join me. We drank, laughed, and played hangman on napkins for about 4 hours. We talked about music. I asked if he wanted to come to my house and listen to records. He did. We slow danced to the Jayhawks “All the Right Reasons” and he played my guitar for hours.
He left his cell phone at my house and I met him the next night to give it to him. He brought me a book. I knew at that moment I was done.