Me: For most, the darkest night of the year wasn’t the 20th of December, it was sometime in March, April or May. Those days of nothing that spun us out of control.
I was sitting in a bar talking to my friend. We had a few hours left before the lockdown for the holidays set in. We were both uneasy about spending Christmas alone, FaceTime our connection to the outside world.
Him: I’ve got all of the Star Wars films lined up to watch.
Me: how many times have you seen those?
I was considering watching a few old James Bond movies. Spare me the christmas films, unless it’s a Home Alone marathon.
Him: another round?
Me: why the hell not.
It was starting to snow outside, and the windows were getting steamy. Only a few people left now in the bar, it was getting quiet. The barista had her mask pulled down below her nose, she was wiping down the marble bar, re-arranging the whiskies.
She looked over at us and I did the thing with your hand in the air that was the universal movement for another round.
Her: this ones on the house. Merry Christmas
Later, as we left, the warm glow of the bar spilled out into the street. We were the last to leave, and as I closed the door I saw her, the barista, taking her mask off and pulling her hair back. Relief.
Me: take care pal.
Him: see you on the other side.