Dear L,
Today at cocktail hour, This Man was a total jackass and the only way I could think of apologizing to you was to humble myself and apologize to you on my blog.
First, I'm sorry for insulting your favorite dive bar. While I was honored that you called and invited me out for drinks, I realize that I had no right to insult the establishment that you choose to have your after-work cocktails in. And while the bartender was a bit flustered and confused when I asked her to make two extra dry Absolut martinis, This Man had no right to look at her as if she had an extra eyeball growing out of her forehead when she asked me if, "I wanted them on the rocks." It was obvious after all of the stares that the men shot at me, that not too many patrons come into Rosie & Joe's and order martinis, I will know better next time.
I mean, who really orders a martini on the rocks! But that's neither here nor there.
Next, I'm sorry for not allowing myself to relax and enjoy your company instead of being so consumed with the atmosphere that I was in. It was very obvious that you were having a good time and was comfortable with everyone around you. Whereas, I had my guard up and was on alert it was no wonder, you could sense that I was a bit uneasy. I was a total jackass and I'm sorry.
Finally, I'm sorry for allowing my mood to suddenly change unannounced after you and I had a heartfelt conversation and you told me how you really felt after I'd delivered the gut-wretching blow to our lives. No, you weren't being selfish with your feelings and I tried to respect that, but what you didn't realize is that you truly hurt my feelings. You hurt my feelings worse than any damage that I could've ever imagined. And This Man just wasn't able to recover from the blow.
So when you saw me in my car, staring off into the horizon and kind of on another plane, it was simply because This Man already feels like shit as it is, but you somehow managed to make me feel worse about myself than I already do. Only you, L, have the power to do that.
As a result, This Man shut down for the night. I didn't want to be bothered with you, my son D or anyone out in San Diego. That's why I skipped the trip downtown to the barber shop. I was feeling too much like shit to put on a face.
So I'm sitting here thinking about how insulted you were when I took cheap shots at your favorite bar and I'm deeply sorry. What I have yet to realize is that there are bars where a person can come in after work and be themselves and the other people there will actually enjoy your company. Whereas the bars that This Man frequents, everyone stands around and model and hold this pretentious attitude that makes everyone around them uncomfortable. But it's what I like. I had no right to be so childish and I wouldn't be surprised in the least if you decided to never call me again on a Friday afternoon to go out for cocktails.

Thatguyheath.