I Call it Love
by Tori Stubbs
"How's work, Bill?" Jessa asked leaning onto the bar top.
"It's work," I mumbled, slumping down into my usual stool. Every day it's the same tedious job, same stuck up boss, and same dull lunch. And every night it's the same bar, same stool, and same usual people.
I stared past a blonde women, with a dreary look in her eyes, and at the walls. They looked dirty and cluttered with the amount of graffiti that littered them. A man slid up next to the blonde women with the same look in his eyes. They carried on a conversation I couldn't hear, and didn't really care to.
The crowd around the television groaned a collective "AWE" before they began yelling at the screen.
"How 'bout I get you a drink?" Jessa shouted.
"Thanks Jess," I mumbled before closing my eyes and trying to shut the world out. I didn't need to watch to know what would happen. Whether the team won or lost, all those guys would go home drunk, some with women on their arm, some with vomit stained T-shirts. Most of the girls would go home together just as they came, and as always I would be the last one out. Other than the staff, of course.