A Booth In A Bar

What do you think I should do? I asked.
You stared at your glass of wine.
I’m screwed either way. I said.
You sighed and nodded your head.
It was getting late and we had to pick up the kids at your parents'.
Would you like another glass? You asked.
Why not?
Maybe it will work out.
Yeah, maybe.
The bartender brought us another bottle and filled our glasses. I watched a couple whisper back and forth, every once in a while one or both of them would laugh. You looked at the other side of the room, at what I can only guess, nonetheless it had your rapt attention. I looked at the bar and saw the sports news on television, unfortunately I was too far away to get much good out of the information it was trying to give me. I thought about moving closer but I was already too far away from you. I killed my glass in one swallow.
We should get going, I said.