Victoria sat alone at the bar nursing her appletini. She was looking so forlorn that the bartender came over to her and asked her if she was all right.
“No, I’m not at all all right,” she said, as her eyes started to well up. “My goddam, feckless husband is cheating on me with one of his students.”
“That sucks,” the bartender said, sympathetically.
“Yeah, sucking him off is what my husband says that red-headed, green-eyed freckled-face bitch does really well,” Victoria said. “He’s making me go berserk.”
“She has green eyes, red hair, and freckles?” the bartender asked. “What’s her name?”
“Patty, and she’s a little tramp,” Victoria said.
“Where does your husband teach?” the bartender asked.
“He teaches creative writing at the community college,” Victoria said. “Why do you asked?”
“Is your last name Fowler?” the bartender asked. “Is your husband Professor Fowler?”
“Yes,” Victoria said. “How did you know?”
“Son of a bitch,” the bartender said. He threw down his bar rag, removed his apron, and ran out of the tavern.
Written for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge. Today’s three things are berserk, husband, and freckles.