GRR I said. it’s what I needed.
The bartender nodded, he has been here before.
Divorce? He asked me.
Death? Someone in the hospital?
I did not respond.
Took my GRR to the corner and leaned back.
She was bubbly and refreshing, he had garnished her too.
Two carnations nestled at the top.
A reminder that bad times do not last,
that the one person you can count on is yourself.
Ginger Root Respite, the best drink I have ever consumed.
It helps that we used to be married,
And he knows what my grunts and GRRs mean.
I put up a finger, and he brought another one to me straight away.
He knew better than to speak this time.
Categories:
barkeeper, life,
Form: Narrative