She’d gotten off her shift but stuck around to drink (and had been for a few hours by the time I arrived). I’d seen her a few times before; spoken to her once about the trip her mother was taking to see her for the first time in eight years. She’d had too much to drink by the time she came to me and said “Why are you here alone again”.

There were several ways that I could interpret the question, most of them dependant on my ability to surmise where her delivery had gone awry. They didn’t really change the answer though so I just said “but I’m not alone, i’m here with you, aren’t I”. She smiled slowly, laughed a little at first and then a bit more. The bartender came down and distracted her while I finished my drink and slipped out quietly into the night.