Recently, she had been told that "going out" was done for no other reason than to stay on top of reputation management. To bars that is. She disagreed immediately (since it applied to the part of herself she denied), thought about, and knew she was wrong. But she also decided not to admit defeat. This process was her standard.
On a night of lackluster rep-upkeep, she ran into a former fling who was explaining that he was ready to throw in the towel with his current romantic endeavor. The girlfriend he had been internet flaunting just hours earlier.
Based on a disagreement.
Their first.
About interior design.
She tried reflecting on what it was that had ended her own affair with this man, but the distraction of friends egging him on to text message the "Dear John" was proving far too overwhelming. The beauty of a meaningful relationship was lost on her peers. After an incredibly distrubing moment of envisioning her own appreciation of love being sucked out of her by 19th century Westerly vampires, she
- took a shot
- winked at a stranger
- promoted some band
- went home
Reputation: upheld
Enthusiasm: M.I.A.
Dignity: intact
Inspiration: not at the bar
