Some nights you just wanted a quiet drink, but some nights that wasn't enough.

Tobe sat alone in the bar, a decent enough place, out in the suburbs. No one approached him, no one engaged him, and that suited him just fine. Whenever he felt unaccountably bitter or angry, he would just find some out-of-the-way place, sit in a corner with a beer or two, and say nothing. It never made him feel any better. At all. He didn't know why he kept doing this. 

Tonight was no exception, he wasn't feeling any less sad or angry, even with one lingering mystery of his life recently cleared up. And he kept staring at a woman seated at the bar, chatting with the bartender and drinking brightly colored cocktails.

Tobe finally shook his head, knocked back what remained of his beer at one gulp, then got up and walked over to the woman. "Hey," he said, barely audible over the jukebox.

Surprised. the blonde looked up at the young man in his plaid blazer and outdated haircut, confusion in her face. 

". . .hey."

"Sorry to bother you. Jenny Hutchins, right?"

"Yeah. Do I know you?"

"Grove High School, Class of 2010."

". . .Dustin?"

"Tobias Dooley."

"Oh," the young woman said, taking another sip of her cocktail, before her eyes finally lit up in recognition. "Oh! Tobe Dooley! I remember, we went to school together!"

"Yes," Tobe said patiently. "We sat next to each other in homeroom for four years. Mr. Szcepanski. We spoke every day for four years."

Jenny thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"You remember Homecoming 2008? I asked you to it?"

"I don't remember that, no."

"You don't remember saying no? I stayed up nights trying to figure out how to do it, then when it came down to it I could barely even work up the courage to ask you. And you just up and said no. You completely crushed my hopes, Jenny. And you don't even remember it?" Tobe's voice shook with anger.

The woman seemed taken aback, but her attitude softened. "Tobe, I'm sorry if I was cruel. You must have thought I was a huge bitch. How about I buy you a drink and we catch up a bit?"

"No, I don't want your fucking pity," Tobe snarled. The bartender looked over, concerned, to shrink back at Tobe's hate-filled look. It was a quiet, suburban place, they were unused to this sort of thing.

Jenny stared. "Tobe, are you really this damaged over something that happened back in high school? Jesus, dude, move on."

Tobe lunged forwards, faster than anyone watching would have imagined, grabbing the woman around the neck. No one would have ever expected the short skinny guy to lift the woman bodily into the air and fling her into the shelves of bottles behind the bar, a good six feet away. Jenny shrieked from the floor, blood streaming from her face to mix with the rum and vodka and broken glass on the floor. Cell phones started coming out, 911 was being dialed by shaky hands.

Tobe didn't care. He walked out of the bar unopposed. He had enjoyed that. It made him feel much better than a couple of cheap beers had.