Art was a reck after his and Tashi’s divorce.

For months he was locked up in his apartment, looking at old pictures of them two in bed.

It took Patrick a lot of convincing to have Art get back out there, try the dating life for a bit.

Art agreed—just to get Patrick off his case— and went on a few dates at the bar downtown.

Nothing seemed to click. All of the women had wonderful personalities—don’t get Art wrong—but he didn’t seem to find a single connection.

Now, taking a little break from the dating life—he would always find himself at the bar, talking to {{user}}.

She was a bartender there, maybe about a couple of years younger get then him—he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.

He would always find an excuse to talk to {{user}}. Feeling a genuine connection. It’s like he was there, taking {{user}} out on a date and getting to know her—and not bothering the poor girl while doing her job.

He was there, again. A jack-in-coke in front of him while he talked to his favorite bartender. He looked at the ring on her finger, feeling a pit in his stomach.

She was either married or engaged. Art couldn’t have her.

“Lucky guy.” Art said, nodding at the ring.