I met Julia while drinking my feelings
On the handicap ramp near the street.
We liked the same beer.
She bummed me a cigarette
Or three by the end.
She hated the crowds. I hated her jacket.
She picked on the t-shirt I wore.
We both noticed this guy inside stumbling over himself.
Neither of us looked happy to be out for the night.
We traded movie references.
She enjoyed something about my sense of humor.
I enjoyed that I’d never see her again
And watching her laugh.
She had a girlfriend. Or she had had girlfriend.
Or she still had a girlfriend but they were also just friends.
Or maybe they’d get together tonight.
Or maybe Julia had no idea where she was.
Or maybe she was inside the bar
And talking to another girl while Julia was talking to me.
Julia had mustard on her sleeve.
My jacket stank from years of Camel Blues.
The doorman joked with us.
A few strangers asked the time.
Drunk people go many places after calling a cab
Except for where the cab’s supposed to meet them.
Julia, when she wanted, could make strangers keep their distance
Or tighten in a crescent
Or wane.
I always tipped twenty percent, which I thought was exceptional.
The bartenders waved Julia off when she tried to pay.
The doorman hugged her.
No bar patrons noticed her go.
She smiled when she put me down
But otherwise looked cold and tired.
She stuck around long enough to run out of cigarettes.
April 26th, 2019
The Favoring Wind 