Restless, part two

Leta hadn't meant to, nor did she intend to, but somehow she spent nearly five hours in a bar, from shortly after 8:00 p.m. to 1:00 a.m. She had wasted those hours. She had wanted something to happen, but nothing happened. She had six drinks. She nodded to a couple of the men who were also in the establishment. Most of them were much younger than she, so she focused her attention on the older ones. However, the older ones either kept entirely to themselves or simply turned from her when she caught their attention.

These men must have seen her. Throughout the night, she was one of only ten women in the entire place. Four of them were obviously with their husbands or regular male companions. They came, kept to themselves mostly, and then left after an hour or two. Two were younger women, either escaping home for a night or seeking male companionship. Both stayed at least two hours and seemingly left alone, but Leta knew this deceptive practice. Right before the women left, one of the men with whom they had been speaking paid his bill (and most likely hers as well) and left before her. He was obviously waiting outside for her. Two of the women came together, as if checking out the place or getting a quick drink after going to the picture show. Leta watched them through the mirror that was on the wall behind the counter. They sat at a table and attempted to keep to themselves. A couple of the men spoke to them. Someone from across the room sent drinks to them. They shuddered and ignored him. After an hour, they left.

That left two other single women, both of whom sat at the bar for a couple of hours. One of the women was rotund with heavy make-up and a blouse that highlighted her ample bosom. She was loud and laughed with ridiculous ease. The other looked dirty and worn. Her clothes were out of style, and she spent much of her time pretending to stare into her constantly refilled glass of wine. Both were in their fifties, but looked older than they were. Neither was very attractive, and they drank steadily for the two hours they stayed at the bar. They walked uncertainly when they finally left. Leta shook her head sadly. She never wobbled after drinking in a bar.

As the evening wore on, she altered her intentions. Initially, she gave credence only to the more handsome men. However, when none even spoke to her, she turned her attention to the less handsome ones, the ones who seemed to be out of place and perhaps as in need of companionship as she was. Sometimes a fellow would smile, but mostly she felt ignored. She looked fine. She held her figure. She had bright eyes and an easy smile. How was it that no one showed any interest in her at all?

Was she in the right place, or had the times changed so drastically from the days when she was younger, never had to pay for her own drinks and constantly had some man or other eagerly speaking to her? She could not possibly have been doing anything wrong? Had she finally reached a point in her life where meeting a fellow, even to satisfy her own womanly needs for an hour was not going to be possible?

What was she going to do?

After she left the bar and was heading toward the trolley stop, Leta realized that the trolley was no longer running. She should have asked the bartender to call a taxi for her. She stood on the sidewalk. The street was deserted. A dampness had settled in the air. Eventually, it would rain, but not immediately. She turned back toward the bar. She could go back and ask the bartender to call, but she had already moved past that point. There was no turning back. Life moved forward. She drew her collar toward her neck, looked around for any potential threat, sighed deeply and then crossed the street.

An hour later she entered her apartment, kicked off her shoes, dropped her purse onto the chair and lay down on her sofa. Her legs were tired, her eyes were tired, and her heart was heavy. She pulled the afghan that she kept on the back of the sofa over her, wrapped herself as tightly as she could, and gradually settled into a restless sleep.