I turned to the man and asked, “Excuse me, did you see a guy sitting here... looks a lot like you?”

“No.”

“I don’t mean to bother you, but...”

“Then don’t”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I turned back around in my seat.

The clock read 2:30, but I wasn’t sure if that was the time or when the clock stopped working. I looked at my wrist, and saw the discoloration on that denoted where my watch would have been, had it not been stolen earlier that night.

I turned to the man again, “Excuse me,”

“What?”

“Do you happen to know what time it is?”

The man exaggerated the motion of picking his arm up, and looked at his wrist, “It’s 11:30.”

Okay. 11:30...

I can deal with that. It’s not that late yet. I dug into my pocket, looking for my phone, just to remember that the phone is probably where the watch is.

She was good.

I turned to the man again, “Excuse me,”

He turned his head, slowly, and gave me a steely look, “What is it now?”

“May I use your phone to make a call or send a message?”

“Well which one is it, a call or a message?”

“What difference does it make to you?”

“I don’t have to give you my phone to send a message.”

“Okay can you send a message to...”

I gave him my wife’s phone number, and told him to tell her to pick me up at... Then it dawned on me.

“What is the name of this bar?”

“You want her to pick you up at ‘what is the name of this bar’?”

“No, I’m asking you.”

“What?”

“The name of this bar is.”

“Yes”

“What?”

“That’s the name of this bar.”

“That’s what I’m asking you.”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

“The name of this bar is what?” I asked, very slowly and deliberately.

“Precisely.”

I started to grow tired of this bit, until I saw a a bug question mark on one of the coasters, Yeah, send that.”

He sent the text, and a few seconds later the phone rang and the man handed it to me.

“Hello?”

My Wife answered, panting, “Eddie?”

“Yeah, can you pick me up at What?”

She inhaled and let out a small moan, “What?”

“Yes, at What? Are you okay?” Just as I uttered those words I heard another moan, but this was much deeper and was unmistakably that of a man.

“What’s going on over there?”

“Nothing... What...I’ll be there in an hour and a half.”

The phone went silent, and I handed the man his phone back.

We both sat in silence, staring at the mirror on the wall behind the bar, until I broke the silence.

“I think my wife was just having sex with another man.”

The man too a sip of his drink and stared ahead, so I took it as an invitation to continue.