I slipped on the step leading from the bar to the back patio, twisting my ankle into a puddle of muck. I’d bought my shoes a month earlier, after grinding down the soles and heels of sneakers I wore almost exclusively for three years. I only tossed those when my feet started to hurt on walks. I saved up for the new ones just to cover them in shit.
I wiped off what I could with one-ply square drink napkins and washed my hands in the dive’s cherry red, closet-sized bathroom. I scanned the comforting toilet graffiti. “Joey pissed here.” “Call for party favors!” “I don’t know you but I love you xoxoxo.”
Wiser, I watched my step on my descent outside and noticed Emily’s friend, smoking and looking at her phone. I just needed air, a break from the noise, but I came alone, and she could be gay. Maybe…
“Could I borrow a light?” I said.
She grabbed one from her little leather shoulder bag and put her phone away.
“Please don’t swipe it,” she said. “That one is actually kinda meaningful.”
I looked closer. It said, “Weed, CA” in melting rainbow letters.
“Oh yeah?” I smirked, lighting up.
“Yeah,” she said, slowly taking it from between my fingers.
“What’s in Weed?”
“Nothing. Or, I don’t know, redwoods. Mt. Shasta. I got it on a road trip.”
“Cute.”
Quiet.
“I’m from California, actually,” I said.
“Oh, cool, me too. What part?”
“LA. The valley.”
“Nice. I’m from Bakersfield.”
“Fuck, that sucks,” I said, laughing.
“Yeah, I know,” she smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”
“This bar?” Maybe…
“Yes, exactly! No, the city.”
“I’m Jordan, by the way.”
“Riley,” she said, holding out her hand.
“So formal,” I said, extending mine.
“Woah,” she recoiled. “What the fuck is wrong with your hands?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking at my palms. Besides the bandage beneath my middle finger, they seemed normal.
“They feel crazy,” she said. “Like,” she pointed to my calluses, “those feel crazy.”
“You should see the one under there,” I said, tracing the bandage.
“What happened?”
“Gymnastics. The bars.”
“Oh wow, okay, Simone Biles.”
“Not even a little bit. I did it when I was growing up. I’m just a coach now.”
“That’s so cute.”
“It’s fun. The kids can be a lot sometimes, but they’re sweet. And I love my friends there. We have adult classes, you should try it sometime.”
“Well, your injury isn’t really selling it.”
“Injury is a strong word. It’s just a rip.”
“A rip.”
“Yeah, a callus ripped open. I was just swinging on the bar and tore up my hand. It’s nasty, the blood and cutting off the dead skin. But it’s…proof of practice. It feels good, getting old skills back, really working at it.”
“I can’t even do a cartwheel.”
“Well, you gotta start somewhere.” I tried for a drag. “It went out.”
She handed me the lighter.
“When’d you do that road trip?” I asked.
“Like, six months ago. My boyfriend—”
Damn.
“—he’d never been to California or the west coast. So, we made a whole adventure out of it. Drove from Bakersfield to Seattle and back.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“Yeah…”
“Or, I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t.”
“No, no, it was great. I mean, the trip was great. He’s just been pissing me off lately.”
She re-lit her smoke.
“All he does,” she exhaled, “is sit on his ass all day. He got laid off just before the roadtrip. I thought that’d be a nice break, and then we’d get back to the city, and he’d get back on his feet. But, he’s just been getting high and playing video games and living off of severance. And now he’s texting me, asking me to come home. And I’m like, no! It’s Emily’s birthday!”
“He sounds depressed. And maybe a bit annoying.”
“I mean, yeah, I know he’s depressed. I just…I feel like I’m carrying deadweight. I don’t know how much longer I can deal with coming back from work every day and seeing him in the same place on the couch. At least do the fucking dishes if you’re gonna stay at home.”
“I’m sorry you guys are going through it.”
“It’s ok. I feel stupid complaining. My life’s pretty good. I’m making friends at a party in Manhattan,” she smiled. “And, I just got a promotion.”
“Congratulations. What’s your job?”
“I’m a consultant at McKinsey.”
“What does that mean?”
“I help businesses solve their issues. Trying to make them more efficient and cost-effective and all that.”
I nodded.
“Look, I know. It’s stupid. I don’t want to do it forever. But, the money…it’s changed my life. It’s like, the whole reason I studied business.”
“I totally get it,” I said, stamping out my cigarette with my muddy sneaker. “We’re just doing our best, making it work. Wanna go back inside?”