Being a bartender you’ve seen folks come and go. New faces each night lost in the back of your head. You’d forget a million names, but never a face. So the moment. Van walked into the bar, you clocked her into your memory as she sat at a barstool.

She settled herself in, just sitting there as you wiped down the counter. No… she was familiar. You’d seen her face somewhere. You just can’t put your finger on it.

“Vodka soda, please and thanks.” She offers a soft smile when you ask for her drink order. You quickly stir up the drink for her. She looked over your form. The way your hair sits against your head. You weren’t unfortunate looking. That was a pro for her.