The girl sits down. The scene doesn't matter, the place, unimportant.
You,like usual, are alone, or with a close friend, probably nursing a drink in reflective silence, thinking about your day, or your wife, or your job, or whatever. The point is, the girl sits down, somewhere in ear shot.
So, the girl turns to her friend, as undoubtedly, this girl is escorted by a similar lady.
"So, last night sucked. We were driving home, and Joey zipped through a red and got t-boned by a big red SUV."
At this point in this conversation, you're thinking this girl is bitching about her boyfriend. And you're right, here. But, that's not what suddenly strikes. Suddenly, a piece of you feels like it's rising up like a balloon.
"Anyhow, we got out, and the guy started going off on us. I mean, what the fuck? We fucked up, we admit it, we'll fucking pay off it, and this douchebag just starts going off."
Here, that piece of balloon gets your thoughts going. They start racing 'round your slightly tipsy head. Assuredly, the first thing that goes through your head is that she's naive. And, you'd be right. But the second thing you notice in that demeanor, is a quiet attitude, a spouting off that normally wouldn't show, a dam that is in need of repair.
"So, the cop shows up, and sits us down on the curb. And, at 9 at night, this guy tests us for BAC. One a Wednesday. I mean, give me a fucking break. You honestly think I'd be drinking on a Wednesday at 9 at night?Really?"
That piece of balloon that's rising suddenly manifests itself as a thought.
She's a hell of a hothead. You respect her.
And then disappears. You walk out of the bar. A week later, you come back, and see the same girl sitting with her friend.
And every week, that girl keeps coming back, and you always listening with a smile on your face and a knot in your throat, because you know that there's nothing for you to say, nothing for you to do, but smile.