(See what I am saying?)

Triple Date

Bartenders can save you a Trip to Art School.

"Why the hell are you taking a picture of that?" she asked me, putting my change on the bar.

I stopped myself making an reflexive and apolgetic excuse. Annie was sitting to the right of me grimacing in gastronamical distress. She was eating a pickeled hot sausage from the gallon jar by the cash register i bought for her.

I looked at the image on the back of the camera. I grabbed the barrel of the lens and held the camera across the bar to the bartender like a boquet of flowers. The LCD screen lit up her face.

"Would you have taken this picture?" I asked her.

She tossed her bleach blond hair aside and examined the image.

"That depends on who is holding camera." she exclaimed over the Bob Seeger pouring out from the jukebox, then walked to the other end of the bar.

* For Further Reading (Read before going to bar, not after): Existentialist Aspects of Modern Art