The Story of Andy, 1

The bar was a comfort. Just like the wharf had been once in his life. The bar allowed him to put his elbows up, unlike his job. He was thrilled to see his arm hairs sparkle in the noonday sunlight which was pouring through the transom above the shelves of bottles. And he felt good in his new t-shirt. He was hoping someone else would notice both and compliment him. He always had assumed that those who notice the small but appealing details made the best dates. Of course, if he stayed long enough he would begin to point out such details to those who didn't seem to be noticing on their own. It was the same thing he did when he exhibited his art.