The music in the background buzzed through the dimly lit bar as Sharon gently
caressed the smooth glass as she stared fuzzily into her fifth glass of whiskey. It had not
been her intention when she walked into the Crocodile to become tipsy, it was more
something that had just happened while she occupied her mind with other, self- pitying
things. It was her first Christmas since her divorce and it didn't help that her daughter was
spending it with her father and his new girlfriend. It wasn't as if her marriage had been a
happy one in the last few years, nor had it ever been a good relationship. She and her
husband (ex-husband) were not fit right from the beginning and she had known it, they had
both known it, so why did she let it go on for so long? Why had she let herself bring a
child into their loveless marriage?
Sharon picked up the glass and drank it back without pause. She glanced over at
the bartender signaling him to bring her another, he gave her a glance that at first, in her
now drunken stupor seemed to say " Stop bothering me you bitch." but in fact (and after
a few minutes to gather herself enough to think straight) was a look of concern and pity.
Do I really look that pathetic? she wondered. Of course you do, you idiot! you're a lonely
woman sitting at a bar, alone, getting drunk on Christmas eve. She missed her daughter,
she missed her old life, as unhappy as it was, and it bugged her that everyone around her
was moving forward while she stayed inevitably still. It would have been okay if she had
been the one to find someone to replace her husband, someone to share the season with.
But no Edward had been the one to move on, to replace her, and she despised him for it.
She hadn't been on a date since their divorce. Hell, she hadn't even slept with anyone but
her husband. She was lonely and she had begun to slowly feel herself reek of it, of
desperation and it sickened her (or maybe that was the sixth glass of Jack Daniel's that she
had forced down.) regardless she felt even more depressed and pathetic then when she had
entered the bar. It's outside had been poorly decorated with ten year old Christmas lights,
most of which had burned out long ago, and silver tinsel that had carelessly been strewn
across the walls. It had called to her though, it had seemed to be the only thing that had
understood her in her hour of deep despair.
Sharon's mind was spinning along with the rest of the room. As she waved to the
bartender for another glass she told herself firmly that she would have no more (as soon as
she thought it though she knew she wouldn't listen to what bit of sense she had left.) A
pugnent cloud of smoke trailed past her, instantly triggering her long lost craving for
nicotine. She turned on her barstool to face the man that was responsible for her sudden
want for a cigarette. "Have an extra smoke?" she asked. Her words slurred and she leaned
far, possibly too far...