They were just so so sooo filthy. Filthy women with filthy bodies and filthy minds. Their lives were fetid and their hearts were dead. Unworthy, sad, pitiful. So terribly pitiful.
It had to be that way, it just couldn’t be possible for these women to be normal.
As a bartender, Anne saw a lot. Too much, maybe. Yeah, definitely too much for her own good.
Good women came with men. They were happy, most of them. Genuinelyhappy, too, and they hugged and kissed their respective soul mates. Even those that weren’t wearing a real diamond, or a diamond at all. They were in love.
And then the men came back. With male friends. And sometimes the male friends brought female friends… which also happened to be friends with the good women.
That made her want to puke on those pretty and short and overly sexy little dresses. They weren’t even sluts, they didn’t get any money. They only got the satisfaction from knowing that they were better.
Better than the good wives who were at home while the men were out with these monsters. Better than the good girlfriends who had no problem with their boyfriends hanging out with their peers. Better than the women who trusted and loved and wanted everyone to be happy because life was good and the world was good and people were good and they were in love.
Better because they sucked so much at life that they just had to destroy something to make themselves look less pitiful.
Anne hated the women who waited at the bar, who lurked in the shadows. She hated the women who looked for the men who were unsteady on their own feet and in their own minds. She hated those cowardly predators and those dumb prey.
She hated it even more when the men returned with the good women. And the good women recognized the filthy women and said hello and how are you and how is billy and it’s been so long since I last saw you girl and sit with us, let’s drink.
The men were embarrassed. Why had they done it in the first place?
The filthy women were proud. The poor little girls were so clueless.
The good women just didn’t seem to understand why the air suddenly felt so heavy. Was it something they had said?
The bartender just sighed and decided that this bar, too, wasn’t for her. Anne stopped wiping the glass cup and let it fall to the ground with a loud crash. People were startled. She glared at them all.
“Have you no boundaries?” she growled. “No shame? No decency? Are you even human?”
Time to look for another job.
Reality 67: Boundaries