queer and loathing

INT: Gay bar, the day after Christmas

I am standing next in front of the fireplace when all of a sudden this gaunt black woman taps me on the arm and mumbled something I assume to be her name. It sounded like “Muhbalah” but that didn’t really make any sense. Although I wasn’t sure what she had said, I told her my name was Vincent just in case:

Muhbalah: Nice to meet you. It’s cold huh. COLD!
Me: Yeah, got to love the fire huh?
Muhbalah: Nice and warm. WARM!
Me: Yeah. Um, you from here? (not much else to say)
Muhbalah: (Suddenly angry) Yeah I’m from here, where you think I’m from? (She shows me the medical band on her wrist. The following was all said in one breath, pausing only to say ‘ya heard’ for no reason.) I just out the hospital but I’m ok I’m ok ya heard? I just got out but I’m ok didn’t hurt too bad but you know sometimes I just don’t stop when I get mad ya heard? some people got that voice inside that says you gotta stop you gotta stop ya heard? i don’t have that so sometimes I don’t stop I don’t stop ya heard?
Me: …

I don’t remember anything else she said because I immediately pretended like my phone had vibrated so I could leave the bar.