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"I'm going to the bathroom." Joseph said; I spilled my drink as I turned. "Jesus Christ Anna, look what you've done, can't you watch what you are doing?" I dabbed at the table with napkins, "That's the third time since we've been to this bar…are you sure your prostate is ok?" He snapped at me, "I'm fine Anna; I just have had a lot to drink, stop worrying about my health." I picked up the glass and stared at his back; a sight I was growing accustomed too seeing. I listened to the loud 80s music and waited on him to get back. Tapping my feet to the beat made me feel less alone. I never understood why he liked bars so much. They were dirty, smelled like cigarette smoke mixed with urine, the music was always ghastly, and too loud. I ordered another round, looked at my watch. I felt uncomfortable with other men leering at me with their big, shallow eyes. I knew why they came to bars; sex or the prospect of. I pulled my skirt down further so as not to give off the wrong idea. When the drinks came to the table I checked my watch again. Fifteen minutes had passed since Joseph had gone to the restroom. I thought to myself if he was ok, maybe the spicy Chinese food had gotten to him; he only went there on my account.
Twenty minutes rolled around and I decided to go see what was wrong. If he was sick then we would have to cut our date short and just go home. Maybe I could put on a movie in the living room and pull out the air mattress. It's been so long since we had a camp out in our apartment. It had been so long since we had done anything now that I thought about it. He was so distant now, maybe it was me? I knocked on the bathroom door, afraid to go in. "Honey, are you ok?" I shouted over the hammering bass line that threatened my calls for concern. "Joseph, are you all right in there?" I placed my ear on the door and plugged up the other. I herd his muffled voice say "No."
I stood at the door for a few seconds but realized I was too afraid to go in and check on him. I decided to just go back to the table and wait for him to come out. The table was lonely, riddled with beer glasses, and, now, sticky from my fuzzy navel. I sipped my drink, tapped my fingers, and listened to the more modern music. Some people danced, some people played pool. The bar tender worked over time as some college kids shouted out round after round. Still no sigh of Joseph. What could I do though? He never wanted my help and he would only yell at me if I dared to ask him if he was ok. His drinks were warm and I was growing cold, ready to vomit from all the cigarette smoke. I prayed that he would hurry up so we could go. Then, like a hawk spotting it's pray, I saw someone come out of the bath room. It was a blond woman with red high heels. The music stopped, time stopped, life stopped. All I could hear was the clicking of her heels on the cement floor. As she walked away from my husband's hidden agenda."
Twenty minutes rolled around and I decided to go see what was wrong. If he was sick then we would have to cut our date short and just go home. Maybe I could put on a movie in the living room and pull out the air mattress. It's been so long since we had a camp out in our apartment. It had been so long since we had done anything now that I thought about it. He was so distant now, maybe it was me? I knocked on the bathroom door, afraid to go in. "Honey, are you ok?" I shouted over the hammering bass line that threatened my calls for concern. "Joseph, are you all right in there?" I placed my ear on the door and plugged up the other. I herd his muffled voice say "No."
I stood at the door for a few seconds but realized I was too afraid to go in and check on him. I decided to just go back to the table and wait for him to come out. The table was lonely, riddled with beer glasses, and, now, sticky from my fuzzy navel. I sipped my drink, tapped my fingers, and listened to the more modern music. Some people danced, some people played pool. The bar tender worked over time as some college kids shouted out round after round. Still no sigh of Joseph. What could I do though? He never wanted my help and he would only yell at me if I dared to ask him if he was ok. His drinks were warm and I was growing cold, ready to vomit from all the cigarette smoke. I prayed that he would hurry up so we could go. Then, like a hawk spotting it's pray, I saw someone come out of the bath room. It was a blond woman with red high heels. The music stopped, time stopped, life stopped. All I could hear was the clicking of her heels on the cement floor. As she walked away from my husband's hidden agenda."
This is the second POV I wrote for the class.
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