Tattooed Bartender

The bartender looked good. Big surprise, right? I’m kind of predictable that way. She was very thoroughly tattooed. She had one half-sleeve and a great deal of patchwork on the other arm. Intense stuff too. Looked like H.R. Giger’s work in black and white. Nice and curvy, she was just mildly overweight, blond hair, bright purple eye shadow, a ring in her lip, spider web tights, and a “Possessed” t-shirt. She looked like she could break up a fight. Doubtless she has, on more than one occasion. She looked to be just over 30. I was smitten at first glance. She was a knockout. Most of the office was there. Shawn got a new job, and this was his going away party. He was a good guy. Everybody mingled and circulated throughout the bar. None of my co-workers seemed impressed with her. I didn’t get it. I’m not sure how you could see her as anything short of stunning, though I’m sure they all thought she was scummy and/or dirty, if they even noticed her at all. Whatever. I’m sure she was leading a fuller, happier, more interesting life than any one of them, or any number of them combined. She had soul by the boatload. I wanted to go talk to her, though I feared I’d look antisocial if I just sat with the bartender. I might have also had to answer some questions later that I just wouldn’t feel like answering. They all know that I’m married. It would have been awkward and stupid. Not worth it. It occurred to me, though, that your taste in anything says a lot about you, your depth of character and your sense of identity. Food, music, women, cars, etc. All things in life are subjective, and thus there are no “right” choices. It’s easy to see, that most people don’t spend a great deal of time looking, thinking, or evaluating on their own, however. Most peoples’ values come out of a can, and it’s not even a very good can. It’s a B.O.G.O. at Wal-Mart kind of can. Whatever’s on sale and whatever everybody else is getting. It seems like most people don’t even really know what they like.