The bartender

Taking care of Blondie kept my mind from obsessing on the man who broke my heart. He was still The Chef for one of my main clients so I had to see him during meetings at the restaurant. I tried to stay very professional and focused. With The Chef's wedding date drawing near, neither one of us acknowledged our former relationship and I was having trouble keeping up my happy facade. After a particularly long meeting where he complained about not getting enough media exposure I realized I wanted revenge. I needed revenge. I felt desperate to make him regret choosing another woman over me. So I did what many women do in this situation; I lost weight and started serial dating. I had so many first dates I can’t even remember who these men were or how I met them. I do, however, remember where I suggested they take me on our first and only date. Restaurant 321. The Chef was completely unfazed at my actions. In fact, he sent special dishes from the kitchen for me and my dates to enjoy. 

His casual attitude got the better of me and in total desperation, I began flirting with Restaurant 321’s head bartender one night right in front of the man I really wanted. The Chef didn't even notice. Jeff was my age, good looking and charismatic. His 80s style spiked hair stood up straight with so much moose that it never moved. He, on the other hand, was constantly in motion mixing drinks, pouring wine, while kicking back a shot or two on the side. A big time joker, Jeff could recall every riddle anyone told him and tried to make his customers laugh with his canned wittiness. Frankly, I found his jokes annoying and his mannerism a bit over the top. He was no Chef Dave.