There is the clink of glass on glass, the harsh squeaks and beeps of the machine printing a receipt. A piece of paper being crinkled. A backpack's metal tabs brushing against the ceramic tiles of the support column. A man saying the word “executive” to a woman behind me. Classic rock raining down on us. There are three people laughing at this moment. Their rates of chuckling are almost equal. A card swipe to unlock a computer screen; ice and alcohol tumbling around. A server asking a man with an accent for ID. The man with the accent saying “Cheers.” Subtitles on a screen with a coach explaining his team's loss. The only females on the bar side are tending or serving. The only non-Caucasian person is tending bar.
The three men sitting by themselves have one chair between them. Each has his drink on the left side, and is diddling with his respective smartphone. The male bartender says “I like it au natural.” A glass gets placed on the wood of the area where I am seated. There is a guitar solo. There are two pairs of men flanking the three men sitting alone. One pair each has on a sweater over a white collared shirt. The other pair is wearing suits.
Another laugh, a stack of glasses being formed, someone answering the question “How's it going?” A server bringing me a full glass. Of everyone wearing glasses in the room, only one pair of frames is metal. The female bartender uses terms such as “dear,” and “honey.”
Only the staff members will be here tomorrow. The rest of us are gone by the end of the day. I don't think anyone notices this.
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|The art of noticing.|