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“No, no, it’s not like that.” He’s noticed my discomfort, both palms up and shaking side to side to indicate he absolutely didn’t mean what I’d inferred. “Jesus, I am so rusty. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. It’s nothing like that. Nothing creepy.”

“So how is it then?” I lean back and cross my arms, sirens blaring in my head. “And why the hell were you sitting there alone anyway?” God, I drank half a glass of his beer. Who knows what’s in it? I’m so stupid.

“Please calm down,” Joe says, his outstretched palms pushing down on nothing in a soothing gesture. “Look, I was supposed to meet my brother-in-law at 7:00. I can show you his texts.” He pulls out his phone. “I haven’t seen him in ages. He lives in Milwaukee. But he hasn’t shown and, honestly, I’m a little worried that something happened on the way.”

“What kind of brother-in-law?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who married whose sibling?”

“Oh! I was married to his sister. Until two years ago. He’s an ex-brother-in-law, actually.”

“What’s her name?”

“My ex-wife’s name?”

“Yes.”

“Kim.”

“How long were you married?”

“Ten years.”

“Tell me what happened. With your marriage.”

Joe looks to the side. Wrings his hands. Takes a sip of beer. Looks up at me again.

Finally, he sighs and decides to speak. “We wanted different things.”

“I will need more than that,” I say. I still sound stiff, although I’m beginning to relax.

Joe’s eyes meet mine. “This is all so I would convince you that I’m not creeping on you?”

“Yes.”

“You need more details on why my marriage fell apart for that?”

“Yes.”

He shifts in his chair, looking very uncomfortable. “I’m not sure I want to avoid sitting at the bar that much.”

“Yes, you do,” I say and point at his entire person. “Look at how big you are. You’d be all scrunched up at the bar, no room for your legs.”

“You’re not wrong. And you seem well versed in tall-people problems.”

I shrug. “Happen to face them myself. And they run in the family.”

His eyebrows shoot up, as if his interest has been piqued. “You have tall siblings? Parents?”

“Yes and yes. But enough about me. I’m not the one trying to prove I’m not a creeper.”

Joe takes a deep breath. His elbows rest on the table, fingers interlaced before his face. “So. My failed marriage.”

“If you please. Or you move to the bar. Or I bring the waiter over and tell him you’ve been bothering me.”

“You wouldn’t!” He seems almost hurt at the thought.