Incomplete

Tonight, I decided not to order delivery and instead walked into a bar in Midtown, my left arm extended almost robotically. There was no one to fill the void, even though both Yankees and Mets were playing. Wasn´t that our thing, sometime in the past?

But you were not there.

They were both losing when I arrived. As I ordered my drink, each team started to react in its own way. The smell of hope dominated the atmosphere at this sleepy bar just a few minutes earlier. The Irish band kept playing, but the minds and eyeballs of the patrons were on the screens. At some point, the band had to stop as the bartender played the sounds of the game for us.The last outs of the last innings, everyone could be heard rooting for New York at the same time. We all knew it: At least one of the local teams must win!

The Mets scored once. The Yankees did the same a few minutes later. It was not enough. Both teams still lost. They tried but fell short. Their effort - their night - was incomplete.

I was at a very nice bar, and food was delicious. Music was pretty good too. Hell, even service was excellent. Who cares the local teams lost?

But you were not there.

And thus, something was missing. And thus, tonight was incomplete.