Betty Diaries: Conversation peace

Betty Diaries: Conversation peace

I sat by myself at the bar at Pine Cone Ridge waiting for some friends and also for the barman to notice me. As far as I could tell, I was the barfly equivalent of The Invisible Woman. I knew better than to gesticulate wildly or yell out, so I just sat there waiting for him to look up from the other end of the bar where he was preparing a cluster of Aperol spritzes with all the focus of a cardiac surgeon. Something about being alone and feeling …