“I always knew who I was looking for,” I told the bartender. “I knew he would show up soon enough if I was patient. And now, here he is.”
I gesticulated toward Anthony and the bartender looked quizzically at the barstool next to me. People often had this reaction when I told them about how I had moved to New York City to meet my one true love and I usually just put it down to jealousy. Jealous of the love I had found and jealous of Anthony’s natural good looks. The only thing that bothered me was no one ever charged Anthony for his food or drinks. Only me. I thought the courtesy of free food would extend to both of us, but had yet to point this out to anyone.
Meeting Anthony was the reason I had moved to New York City in the first place. I was a believer in dreams and in signs and everything was pointing for me to leave my comfortable life in small town Kansas and finally put myself out there. I had a rough start in learning how to live the noise and crowds of people, but I slowly learned to enjoy the hustle of living in such a big city. Anthony made everything seem easy.
The day my life was ruined when I finally asked Anthony to take a selfie with me so I could finally send a picture home to my family and friends. I had been gushing over Anthony for months now, but no one I loved back home had ever seen a picture of him and had to rely on my descriptions. We took the picture, I texted the photo home in one large group text and then the sky came falling down. Everyone was asking why I had sent a picture of just myself. They had wanted to see a picture of Anthony. The more they texted the more concerned both my family became. I was furious they didn’t take my picture seriously as I could clearly see Anthony in the picture. But they made it seem like Anthony never even existed. Like he wasn’t real. Like he was imaginary.
Standing Room Only 