The Luck of the Polish

is absolutely shitty. This Polish lass has been having a crappy week, not earth-shatteringly bad, but bad enough in light of her general optimism on life. Maybe it's just that the missus (ha, she's not here so I can call her that) is away, but I'm been feeling very invisible, isolated, taken for granted lately. First, the missus and I got into a fight yesterday because every time she called me from the Keys, it had to do with her stupid term paper. Glad to know I am a resource for that and not much else. Although we've since ironed that out, this theme continued in other parts of my life. I called my Mom yesterday to see how she was. She's close to getting a full-time job again and will know by today (she lost her job last month when her FMLA time ran out after her emergency surgery). Anyway, she told me about her work, her day, and then, when I opened my mouth to tell her about my week, she told me she'd call me soon to let me know about the job and hung up.

Not wanting to spend St. Patrick's day alone (and I totally understand those friends in the county who don't want to drive in and find parking in Canton; heck, I didn't want to lose my space, either!), I ventured over to our neighborhood bar. Bars are social places, right? I mean, if you don't want to hang out and chat, you can certainly well drink at home alone. At least that's my understanding, right? On an unrelated note, it's strange being a woman and going to a bar alone. There's kind of a social stigma to it, like you're a desperate, lonely alcoholic or something (which is a perfectly acceptable character trait for a guy, judging by some of this bar's clientele). Anyway, the first couple I talked to, our neighbors up the street, left within 15 minutes of me getting there. Fine, but I was hurt that they didn't say goodbye, even though we sat right next to each other and I watched them get up and go. Ditto for the next couple of regulars who I tried to chat with while they watched figure skating blankly on television. Am I some sort of fungus? Now, admittedly, these people are exactly the most socially attuned people in the world, but I think proper hellos and goodbyes are in order, especially when someone takes the time to talk to you.

Then I began talking to some guy who lives on a side street near the bar. I actually met him and his girlfriend that last time I was here, although I happened to be a little worse for the wear at that time and seemed to annoy opinionated, self-important girlfriend with my drunken attempts at being neighborly. Anyway, he and I were having a decent, amiable chat—he even remembered my name and where I lived, which is more than I can say for most people I meet—when girlfriend arrives. He reintroduces me to her, I chat with them a few minutes more, then girlfriend does the completely annoying thing of talking to directly to him about people and subjects about which I know nothing.

Taking the hint, I turn back in my barstool and watch ice skating while she blathers on and on to him about anything related to her. I vow not to speak to them until spoken to, making the point that I am aware of her exclusive behavior (which is her right, I suppose, but why come to a f*ckin bar if you're going to be antisocial?), and they don't speak to me again. An hour passes and they finally leave. Boyfriend awkwardly punches my back on the way out, and I give him some sort of awkward wave. An ice skater falls flat on his face on the television, and then I leave also. I dream about him, the ice skater, later that night, and wake up in tears.