Three Women Walk into a Bar
a short story about perception and connection
Ashley, Tess, and Jenna walk into a bar in the heart of the city. After weeks of not seeing each other, Ashley suggested a girls night to celebrate Jenna’s birthday. All three agreed it was a good idea, and after much back and forth over text messages, they landed on a date. The three women had been friends for three or four years and looked forward to each other’s company. But when the night arrived, all three experienced a very different evening.
I.
Ashley saw her two friends lingering outside the bar, waiting for her arrival. She was late—per usual—because getting out the door with four kids was always a struggle. She took a deep breath to clear away the tension of two toddlers who didn’t nap and opened her arms wide, pulling both Tess and Jenna into a bear hug. Ashley smiled. She’d always considered herself the leader of the group. Rarely did they get together without Ashley initiating it, so she carried that sense of responsibility with pride.
After stepping through the door of the bar, Ashley made a beeline to a table in the corner, where they’d be more likely to hear each other amidst the clink of glasses and the din of happy hour chatter. All three women settled into a booth. Having not talked to another adult all day, Ashley was hungry for conversation, but she stopped short when Tess immediately buried her nose in the menu and Jenna seemed distracted by the buzz of her phone. Her heart sank. Ashley had been looking forward to this night for days, but her friends didn’t seem to match her enthusiasm.
Uncomfortable with the silence, Ashley filled the gap with a story about the chaos she’d experienced that day as a stay-at-home mom and then quickly chased it with an update about her father-in-law who had begun living with them. Their drinks arrived at the table, but her friends remained strangely quiet. Ashley sensed something was wrong and began to wonder, “Am I talking about myself too much? Did I say something wrong? Have I offended them in some way?”
Ashley ached to connect and to enjoy her time with her friends, but with Jenna already on her third drink and attached to her phone and Tess more interested in glancing across the room, she felt deeply wounded. This wasn’t the girls night she imagined.
II.
Tess was eager to be with Ashley and Jenna. The first to arrive at the bar, she opted to wait for her friends outside. She could use the fresh air. That morning, she and Derrick had been at it again. The frequency of their disagreements seemed to be escalating, and home was beginning to feel like a war zone. The stress of failed infertility treatments combined with new challenges at work seemed to be taking their toll. She needed some time away—a chance to breathe and to be with friends.
Jenna arrived just before Ashley but seemed distracted even in her hello. But both introverts, they were content to wait for Ashley in relative quiet. Tess saw Ashley coming from a distance, bouncing with the natural energy Tess envied. They hugged and quickly made their way into the bar.
The moment Tess stepped into the dimly lit space, she felt all eyes turn toward her. She was the only woman of color in the room—an occurrence that wasn’t uncommon in this part of the city. Most people went back to their drinks and conversation, but Tess carried a heightened awareness of a man at the bar who had not stopped staring, but rather watched the three woman walk to the corner of the room with a furrowed brow.
They sat down, and Tess was immediately grateful for Ashley’s happy banter. Even though her stories of motherhood occasionally stung, Tess did not harbor bad feelings toward Ashley for having children when she could not. Plus, with everything that had been going on between her and Derrick, she’d been rethinking whether bringing a child into the family was such a good idea.
“How’s work been for you?” Ashley’s question snapped Tess out of her thoughts, and she did her best to offer an honest reply despite the fact she felt Jenna stiffen in the seat next to her and then pull out her phone. Tess raised an eyebrow when Jenna ordered her third drink but quickly brushed it aside—it was Jenna’s birthday, after all. Tess did her best to make conversation and even paid for the bill, but the heaviness of the day only intensified as the man’s blatant stare continued to be felt across the room.
III.
Jenna’s birthday was her favorite day of the year. But as a single working woman living alone in the city, it also carried its fair share of loneliness. However, she had decided to make an effort this year to make the day special for herself—rising early to enjoy coffee at her favorite neighborhood cafe, wearing the new pair of bright pink pumps she’d purchased for herself as a treat, and making plans to sneak away from work a bit early to meet her friends who she’d been missing desperately.
But an hour before she got off work, Jenna’s boss walked into her office. The youngest executive on the team, Jenna had a reputation as a hard worker, willing to arrive early and stay late. Her personal life had suffered, but she took pride in her corner office. But recently business had taken a turn; clients had been cancelling contracts left and right, and Jenna knew the moment the CEO entered the room that he did not come with good news. Jenna was being let go.
She arrived at the bar stunned, anxious, and embarrassed. Tess was already standing outside, so Jenna leaned against the wall next to her. She was glad for a few moments of quiet before Ashley arrived. Her nerves were raw, and Ashley had a way of sensing when something was wrong. Jenna knew she was beginning to spiral, but didn’t want to take away from time with her friends or her birthday celebration. Ashley approached and pulled them into a hug; Jenna breathed deep as she returned the embrace, wondering when was the last time she’d experienced physical affection.
After settling into their corner booth, Jenna felt her phone begin to vibrate. Word was spreading at the office about her dismissal, and co-workers were beginning to ask questions. She turned her phone over, wanting to enjoy Ashley’s story of her latest adventure in motherhood. Ashley was the best storyteller and never failed to make her laugh. And yet tonight, the laughs didn’t come easily. Jenna ordered a drink and then another, hoping to calm her nerves and the growing dread. She caught Tess’s concerned eye, but quickly looked away, afraid that she’d burst into tears. And then what?
This was not the birthday she imagined.
Ashley, Tess, and Jenna walked out of the bar that night having had three completely different experiences—carrying burdens but failing to connect in the ways they craved. Perception painted an incomplete picture. The real stories lurked beneath cocktails and casual conversation. They said their goodbyes, and each woman walked away disappointed and wondering, “What if I had told the whole story?”
note: this short story was originally published on sarahewestfall.com in April 2021.
Wow! Sarah, this is such a good reminder of why we need each other and that we need to be brave with our authenticity instead of letting the committee that meets in our heads lead us down the wrong road. Like Ashley, I’ve walked away wondering if my “rambling” was too much instead of asking friends’ questions that would get me outside of my head. Thanks for sharing this.
Whew. "What if I had told the whole story?" This painted a very real picture of what happens when we don't.