We pick up our drinks, and hold them up to each other. "To breakups," she says. I repeat and touch my shot glass to hers and then we kick the drinks b...ck. "Ack! That shit is strong!" She smiles at me. "Yeah, but thats how I like it," she slurs. I can tell that she's pretty out of it, especially as she tries to pull me onto the dance floor. "Come on," she pleas. "Don't be so...stiff." I sigh but give in. "One dance, but then I'm taking you home. I think you've had a little too much tonight."She. She moved like a fashion model walking the runway. I moved in closer when I saw her sitting at the table again with one of her friends talking. She obviously had a few more drinks in her now. She was venting to her friend about the lack of attention her husband was paying to her. I sat in a chair next to them inconspicuously listening in on their conversation. She went on complaining about how she worked so hard to maintain her perfect body and how little attention he paid to it. He was most. More

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