How I Got Away From a Barfly



(Picture courtesy of pexels.com)

So John and I were at the Lodge in our community this evening and I was talking to a woman I will call Rebecca who was standing between John and I.  I have know her for a about a half year and run into her every couple weeks. She is very sweet, a little pretentious, and dresses way too sophisticated for Schuylkill County, PA. We were talking for about 10 minutes and within 5 minutes I realized she was really drunk. While throwing back a vodka tonic, she started talking about how she is working on some knitting project and goes on and on and on about it. I don't have a problem with knitting per se, but wanted to talk about other things. She kept going back to her knitting and then started talking about some knitting club she is starting. I stifled a yawn, glanced down at my watch, and seeing it was 10:00 PM, decided I needed to act to either alert John it was time to go, or try and get away from her.

I attempted to get away from her first. I went to move off of my bar stool, and she turned to John and said, "You don't mind if I sit in your seat, do you?" And without waiting for a response, she sat down and literally pushed him out of his seat. He was not happy but didn't say anything. She turned her body towards me and wedged me in. Well ... option #1 was blown.

I then attempted to alert John that we needed to go by gently nudging his leg with my foot. I leaned forward pretending that I couldn't hear Rebecca's drunken ramblings. Leaning in, I nudged John. He looked over at me, rolled his eyes as if to say "Oh my God, will she not be quiet?" He then turned to a friend of ours next to us, Todd, in his requisite Phillies cap, and proceeded to ignore us.  Great, I guess I am left to try and deal with this myself, I thought.

I glared at John thinking or rather screaming in my head, No John!!! I am trying to get you to leave! Pay attention to me!!!  I stared at John and then realized Rebecca was continuing on, now segueing some how into how she is much better at playing the piano than knitting.   HUH? I thought.  What is the segue with that? Rebecca says to me, "So do YOU think you would ever come over for a cocktail?"  The record playing stopped abruptly with a screech, and I thought, "Where did that come from?"

OK, another attempt to get John's attention.  I leaned forward again to nudge him in his leg, this time a little harder. As I leaned forward I fell off balance and kicked Rebecca squarely in the shin. "Ouch!" she yelped.

"Did you just kick me in the shin?" she asked.
I paused awkwardly, trying to compose myself.
"Excuse me, what did you just ask me?" I inquired pretending to be clueless and dumbfounded.
"Did you just kick me in the shin?" she asked again louder.
"No," shaking my head, "that wasn't me."
"Well, if it wasn't you who was it?" she asked, breath heavy with alcohol, now slurring through the last several words.
"No, Rebecca, I actually think you fell against the bar. Uh ... how many have you had?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know, probably 6. I don't think I fell, I mean, well ... maybe I need to switch to a soda. I swear you just kicked me."
"Don't be silly," I reasoned. "Why would I kick you because if I wanted to get your attention, I could just ask you something. I mean you ARE right next to me." I looked at her with a look like she was just a little crazy.
"OK, I guess you are right. Maybe I should just go home, I have been here since 6," she slurred.
"Well, let me help you find your husband and tell him you are ready to go home. It's the very LEAST I could do," I offered smiling sympathetically to her new found embarrassment.

With that, I had my exit and got up and found her husband. Soon, Rebecca the Barfly was peacefully passing out in the passenger seat of her husband's Lexus on the drive home.