The rain fell until the concrete turned from white to gray, and with it came oppressive humidity that made his lunch beer sweat and drip on his slacks. He sat at the bar but not in his regular seat. Of course, someone occupied his usual spot on this rainy day. His phone buzzed, "around the corner."
The conditioned air was on full blast for some reason, which made the beer even more unappealing. For a second, he thought about ordering something else but drowned that idea with another gulp. His Cobb salad arrived. A good choice for a Wednesday—not a steak, yet barely a salad when you consider all the bacon and bleu cheese.
She walked through the door in a wet coat and kissed him even though he tasted like all the aforementioned ingredients. "I've got fifteen minutes," she said before looking up at the bartender and then a firm "white wine" when she caught their eye. "Another beer for me," he said, finishing the remaining suds in his glass as she sat down.
Fifteen minutes felt like seconds, almost as if each raindrop was quickly ticking the clock forward as they smashed into the window. That morning, the rush out the door left no time for relaxing or chit chat. It makes sense for two people that met at a bar so many years ago to find it easier to talk at one even though they now share a house, two dogs, and a bed.
She finished her wine and the cherry tomatoes from his salad before stealing another kiss and heading back into the rain, her high-heels clicking sharply down the street until he couldn’t hear them anymore. He signaled for the check with an invisible pen flourish and put his jacket on. Walking back to his office, as the rain relentlessly speckled his glasses, he daydreamed about her and which bar they would catch up at next.
Good one. Could see the whole thing from across town in my minds eye