and I thought I made myself clear..

Upon leaving Doc's Clocks, I was slightly intoxicated after drinking two beers at this SF30-something social gathering my friend invited me along to last night. I suggested we stop off at Muddy Waters for a coffee. I needed the coffee to sober up. She only had a cranberry juice at the bar and seemed annoyed that I couldn't handle my liquor. I'm Asian. What does she expect?

At Muddy Water's, a divey coffee shop that smelled like the men's bathroom urinals at a truck stop, several marked up wooden tables were surrounded by geek-tech men and a sprinkling of sour looking, bespeckled women intensely playing an assortment of board games. Apparently, it was game night at Muddy's.

In my usual domineering and focused determination, I made a direct bee-line to the open counter and ordered my small, soy latte to go before finding an empty table to sit down with my friend.

She watched me while I sipped my latte. Her eyes, probing, shifting slightly right and left until I couldn't take it anymore and started babbling about the pub trivia night with my ex two days before. My story seemed to distract her from staring at me too hard. Then she breaks her silence and asks, "Don't you miss wearing your wedding ring?"

Uh, no. I don't. "I don't miss it at all, actually." I replied.

"Well, good! Because he cheated on you, you know. He cheated." Her voice went up an octave and I knew half the gamers within earshot heard her but pretended not to have.

Was she trying to make me feel awful and her stating the obvious is going to justify a past decision that I know was right?

"Hey, this is a sore topic for me," I said. "Let's change the subject. I'd rather not talk about it."

My friend nods in assent and is quiet for all of two minutes before opening her mouth and repeating again. "He cheated on you. I'm glad you're not with him. I mean, he cheated. That's bad."

I took one look at her, stood up from my chair and excused myself to use the lavatory. I was speechless. I wanted to raise my hand, reach over the table and smack my friend across the cheek. But I didn't. I walked away. Clearly, I needed a breather and a bathroom break was definitely in order.

Again, I have to remind myself that my dear friend suffers from bi-polar schizophrenia and it's the medication she's on that eliminates any tact and social grace that any decent person would otherwise have.

When I returned, I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair, pulled it on and asked her if she was ready to go. Our night was over and I wanted to leave as soon as possible lest she open her big mouth and humiliate me some more. And that was the highlight for another Friday evening.