So he went inside, found a seat at the bar that had just been vacated by a man with a reddish beard, potbelly, and stained tank top, and ordered up the drink he currently nursed. It was watery, with a bitter aftertaste from the cheap vodka, and Sean wished, for about the thirtieth time, he had just headed home.
Once upon a Friday night, Jerome would have been waiting for him to come home from work, checking out restaurant options for the two of them on Yelp or maybe even cooking up something fabulous and fragrant in Sean’s own kitchen.