Joanne rarely drank, and when she did it was most often a chilled glass of some kind of lovely mild wine. Never in her life had Joanne felt the burning, urgent need to sit down and pour alcohol into her system, never until today. She could have used a cigarette but she didn't smoke.

The Blue Ball Tavern was very close to the college. All the better. She didn't have far to walk. She couldn't have walked very far, let alone get into her car and drive anywhere.

It was noontime and the tavern was pretty crowded. She pushed through the clusters of students sipping beer and munching pizza during their break from classes, and she got to the bar. A boy with bespectacled, pimple-spotted face, trying to grow a luxurious mustache, was just getting up to go to the john as she reached the bar, and Joanne slipped onto his stool. "Give me a scotch and water," she told the bartender. "On second thought, forget the water. And make it a double."

She was into her fourth or fifth drink, she couldn't remember and she didn't care, and it was one o'clock or maybe a little later. There was a clock on the wall but she couldn't see that far, not with any clarity of vision. The noontime crowd had thinned out drastically and she was alone at the bar. A few students, mostly couples, were occupying the booths along the wall, and the jukebox gave forth a disco-type soul song every now and then. Music didn't help, and neither did alcohol. She stirred her drink and listened to the ice clinking on the sides of the glass.

What in the hell was happening to her life? Her husband was fucking some other woman – not even a woman, a girl, a young girl, one of his students. How long had it been going on? Christ, even the little bitch who worked at the reception desk knew all about it, not to mention her bird-legged friend! Was the whole fucking world aware of Tom's extracurricular activities? God! And she hadn't even guessed!