Affluence

Her dark page boy haircut stood out among the permed and bleached bouffants circling the bar. Crocodile skin heels as opposed to white cross-trainers. Her only ring was a huge turquoise stone ensconced in sterling rather than a small diamond solitare set in cheap gold. The arrogance of having risen above this blue collar town cloyed like the wafting cigarette smoke. Aislin's affluence offended many lining the bar as they turned to watch her and Duke walk in.

Aislin faced the bar, and stared at the neon domestic beer signs, NASCAR plaques, an infamous picture of Babe Ruth, and small placards denoting fried delicasies served in red plastic baskets. Each person's face was cast with an eerie red glow; each one marked by bad marriages and multiple children. Familiar faces from high school telling the familiar stories. The bartender, a large man with COOP tattooed down his forearm, walked up and nodded to her. He looked like an ex-boyfriend and probably was. Aislin had been popular with the opposite sex in the days before college--a lucky combination of running five miles daily and the Irish baby feeding breasts.