Bar therapy

Kat's funeral is over and I am standing by myself in the cemetery with my right hand on my forehead. I am crying my eyes out and I don't think that I will ever be able to stop. I have never cried this much in my life. I am feeling as if some unknown person took a knife and cut my heart out of my chest. That person is the same person who killed my friend. I did not fire the first shot in this war, but so help me, I will fire the last. I will find the miserable excuse for a person, and when I do, that person's life won't be worth a plug nickel. After about ten minutes when my tears finally start to die down, I feel a masculine hand patting my back. I look behind me and I see Tristan. I am still miffed that he wore his usual ratty clothes to Kat's funeral. Who wears clothes like that to one of these somber occasions?

"You shouldn't let this drive you so crazy, Connie!" Tristan admonished me. "Life is for the living."

"Who are you to say how I should feel?!" I snap. "And another thing, where do you get off dressing like that to a funeral?! Don't you have any respect for Kat?!"

"Hey, I loved her too!" Tristan snapped back at me.

"You have a funny way of showing it!" I yell at my friend because I am completely losing it.

"Hey, I don't have to take this garbage!" Tristan shouted back at me with our eyes only a foot apart.

"You'll take it and like it!" I argue with my hands balled up into fists.

"Oh, yeah?!" Tristan shot back at me. If looks could kill, we would both be dead by now.

"Oh, good comeback!" I snarl while rearing back my right hand in the hopes of giving Tristan a black eye.

"What's going on here?" Leo my scraggly blond friend interjects while stepping in between us to cut off my line of fire which made me bring my fist down. It's a good thing that he did because there would have been no telling what we would have done to each other if he hadn't.

I look at Leo and I see that he is dressed almost as poorly as Tristan. I cannot get mad at Leo since I know that he is strapped for cash. Tristan, on the other hand, does not have that problem so he has no excuse.

"Oh, not much!" Tristan snaps at Leo. "Miss Prissy thinks she is the fashion police!"

"I don't think that she means to be this crabby about clothes," Leo explains. "Connie had a terrible thing happen to her."

"Yeah, I know," Tristan conceded.

"Connie, are you really this mad at Tristan?" Leo probes.

"No!" I whine while pinching my nose to gather my feelings as a single tear runs down my face. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Tristan gave in while putting his arms around me which causes me to to the same to him. "I didn't handle the situation well either."

"We better get out of here," I insist. "If I am in this cemetery another minute, I will go nuts."

"Let's go to a nearby bar and get some pain killers," Tristan suggests.

"That sounds good," I agree.

"We'll take my car," Tristan suggests.

We all get in Tristan's car which almost looks as shabby as he is dressed. I wonder why my black haired friend would live like that, but I remember I magazine article that I read I long time ago that was about the Howard Hughes syndrome. That is a condition where a rich person can't help but live like a pauper. I think that is what is wrong with Tristan although I am not a psychiatrist. This revelation convinces me to take it easier on my friend. I am relatively calmer by the time we arrive at the bar because of this breakthrough.

I enter the bar and I notice that is not the best looking establishment that I had seen. There are a couple of lights that seem to be blinking in Morse code. Furthermore, the tables and chairs are a little run down. I try to ignore this as I belly up to the bar first. Even though I have never drank an alcoholic beverage in my life, I order a beer since my mind has not been operating at peek efficiency lately. I have somehow gotten the idea that getting hammered will help me. My other two friends both order a glass of whiskey and the three of us sit at a table in the center of the room. I try to drink my beer, but I start to on it after drinking a couple of swallows. It is a good thing that I wasn't by myself when it happened.

"Take it easy on that stuff!" Tristan warns me while patting my back.

"You have never drank before, have you?" Leo asks me while holding my hand until my scare passed.

"Is it that obvious?" I joke.

"I think so," Tristan spoke with a smug grin while pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. " I think we should help Connie in some other way since she can't even drink beer."

"Whatever we do, it will still be a temporary fix," I point out.

"Friendship is not a temporary fix, poor girl," Leo lightly debates.

"I realize that," I agree.

"Shall we play some poker?" Tristan asked.

"Sure," Leo and I answer together which caused Tristan to rent some chips from the bartender.

When my brunette male friend got back, we all bought five dollars worth of chips to start the game. Even though all we played was draw poker which is one of my favorite variations, I was still getting creamed. Tonight I have learned that poker is a lot more complicated than I thought. It is not only getting the right cards which I rarely did tonight, it is also making your opponents think that you have the right cards. That is very hard for a person to do if that person has been crying at a friend's funeral and almost gotten into a fist fight with another friend. Because of all this, I was quickly down three dollars. On the last busted flush, I looked around the bar for something that could turn my fortune around. I saw an electric dart board at the other side of the bar and knew I had found it because darts is one of my best games. I let out a sigh to demonstrate my exaggerated frustration.

"I bet you would like to do something else," Tristan offered.

"Yes, please," I respond politely.

"What would you like to do?" Leo probes.

"Darts, I guess," I respond nonchalantly to set my trap.

I volunteer to play last so I can see what I am up against during our game of 501. Tristan had trouble controlling his shots which were going all over the board. Leo is a moderate player so he got a decent score of 50. When my turn came up, I walked up to the line and made Tristan flinch when I sent my first dart into the triple twenty square for sixty points. My second shot just missed the triple square for twenty points, but I made up for it by going back to triple twenty land on my last dart. My total score for my first round was 140.

"Hey, Leo, I think Connie hustled us," Tristan complained.

"Oh, really?" Leo laughed. "I hadn't noticed."

On my next turn, I went back to the line to make my friends beg for mercy when I unfortunately remembered how I got to be so good at this game in the first place. Kat taught me. I dropped the dart I was holding when I went into flashback mode and found myself during my junior year of high school. Kat would often put her hand on my arm to show me the correct way to throw the dart at her board. Kat's method of teaching not only made me a superb dart player, but it might be part of the reason why I can only date women today.

When I snap back to reality, I sit at a nearby table as two tears come out of my face.

"What's wrong?" Leo asked while patting my back.

"Kat..." I squeak as a third tear falls down my face.

"Did Kat teach you this game?" Tristan quietly barked which caused me to nod my head. "Kat demolished me in a game of darts once. I should have realized the connection when you started doing it to us now."

"I think it's time for our last play," Leo suggests.

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"Take this key and go up to room 205," Tristan orders me while putting a key on my right hand. "You might find something you like inside."

I start climbing the stairs away from my friends to discover that this is not just a bar, but an inn as well. I soon arrive at the suggested door and unlock it. I open the door to find a hot babe stretched out on the bed and wearing nothing but pink lingerie which exposes her belly button. When the woman smiles at me, I realize that she is one of my friends. I enter the room and lock the door behind me in the hopes of at least having some fun on this dreary day.