The Bartender and the Bank Teller know each other from five years of business at the bank, and two years of business at the bar. And one year of no business at either the bank or the bar. Hi, she says.
Hi, he says.
I'm still angry at you, she says.
I married her. I don't know why we can't just get over this, he says.
Is it true you proposed to her under an overpass?
The Bartender clarifies. It was under a drawbridge, he says. I don't know how the rumor got out that it was an overpass. Drawbridge.
The Bartender explains why both he and his wife are attracted to drawbridges. Romance of the drawbridge is one reason, but not the only reason. The other reason is the affordability of proposing under a drawbridge. Expenses are minimal, if not nil. Proposing under a drawbridge requires only three things:
- A route down the cliff to the water's edge, and from the waters edge to a spot beneath, or very close to beneath, the drawbridge in question.
- Good timing, if the proposal is to be done at the moment a drawbridge closes, thus symbolizing the connection of two masses viz. a conjoining metal. Drop-forged steel in the case of a drawbridge; gold in the case of an engagement ring.
- A sense of adventure.
The Bank Teller isn't impressed. She tells him he probably still thinks of her. He does, at night, at around nine-thirty. She thinks of him at around four in the afternoon. In this way, their relationship persists, though in time zones that are necessarily and temporally inconsolable.
They chose their guns and take the field, standing ten paces apart.
They raise their guns. Their guns go off.
