Carl waited in the hotel bar, while his wife, upstairs in their room, finished getting ready. It was mid-afternoon and besides the bartender and a young couple out on the patio, he had the place to himself.
He sipped at his whiskey sour.
They’d got in the night before. Their first vacation together since they had kids. Seventeen years. Carl was doing his best to enjoy himself, but hadn’t had much practice. Bored and uneasy, Carl kept turning his head, scanning the bar, half-hoping someone would sit beside him, and strike up a conversation.
He rehearsed what he might say.