Sandy Bridgers picked at the white glob on the verneer tabletop. She shivered slightly, then took out an Italian flannel shirt. Sandy aimed to keep a

long sleeve

shirt in one of the bags

bags

she carried, no matter the temperature.

American

buildings blasted the

AC

unlike any other country. She'd once caught a cold in 92 degrees, 85 percent humidity after visiting the

dentist

. She had worn something suitable for the outdoor conditions. Athletic shorts and a T-Shirt. But the dentist had the

thermostat

had been set so that an obese man in a

three piece suit

would not sweat a single drop.

Alongside medical facilities, bars... or more precisely

sports bars

were another establishment that cranked the AC. She thought it had something to do with the clientele. People who didn't spend much time outdoors. People who were more heavyset and prone to sweating. She thought it was funny that sports bars featured so much overweight

men

. The white glob on the table was now almost empty. She figured it was around 5:38 now. Eight minutes. That was around the time she began to grow bored of waiting for someone who was running late. Up until that mark she didn't mind at all. People watching, sipping her drink. She'd actually welcome the spontaneous activity that she would get to do in solitude.

She took another sip of the ice chilled water through her straw then looked at her phone. There was no updates from him. Instead her dinner companion was running late. As usual. Not surprised, she still felt a little upset. Why couldn't he have got here on time. Or at least only be late by seven minutes. And more importantly why the hell had he chosen a sports bar?

Sandy could've suggested another place. She had in fact suggested other places, but he had been the one to assertively say that they should come here. This dark, cold, sports bar... filled with men who looked like they once were decently good varsity athletes who had not kept up their physical regimen and instead lived a life alternating between a 

full time

job and drinking at sports bars with their pals.

She promised herself that she would never let anyone lure her to another sports bar again. She thought about the burger that they served at Rust, her new favorite bar. Her tongue began to salivate. She knew the burger here would not be half as good. And the 

beer

here wouldn't taste as good either... even though she could get the same beer. Something about the glass they served it in and the waitress. It would all affect the taste.

She crumbled up the last of the white glob on the table and then put it inside a dedicated part of her small bag, where she put other crumbled up pieces of paper. Usually they were receipts. This time it was the paper wrapper the straw came in. She was so bored she could aimlessly scroll through 

Instagram

, but she told her self she wasn't that type of person. She thought about that new 

Cal Newport

book that everybody was talking about.

Sandy decided to just sit there and be bored instead. He would arrive soon.