My roommate at the time had just quit working at a hotel, and wanted to finally try the bar. (It was persona non-grata for employees even when they weren’t working.)
I can remember it was around 5 in the evening, in this coastal California city, and we could see the sun setting on the ocean before us.
As we sat at the bar, I noticed James Gandolfini had passed. It was sad. My roommate had no idea who he was.
I ordered a rum and coke and settled in. My roommate had to go soon but was willing to have one.
Soon enough two older women came to the bar. One was wearing a hat and the other a denim jacket. Now to put it bluntly they were both into their mid 40s. At least. I never caught the age.
So my roommate goes to make a phone call and I am sipping my now dark and stormy when I decide to strike up a conversation with one of them.
I actually don’t know what I said (maybe something about the sunsetting?) but she just gave me a plain response.