My nerves are bad tonight.

“My nerves are bad tonight. In fact, my nerves have been bad for a very, very long time. I cannot fall asleep at night, nor can I stay awake during the day.” Said the chubby woman at the bar. “But Marie, I thought you are on Stilnox. Doesn’t it work?” asked another woman voice, slightly high-pitched. “I stopped taking Stilnox. It gave me crazy dreams. I almost always have a panic attack when I wake up.” Answered Marie, making a desperate hand gesture. She has always been the drama Queen. She actually secretly thought she was the reincarnation of Cleopatra and she just couldn’t understand how she ended up here, a filthy bar in the cockney London, in her ill-fitted Monsoon clothes.

She was the prom Queen of her high school. A Queen indeed, who was always in her spaghetti strips and mini-skirts, escorted by a jock from the football team. Life was wonderful then. People worshipped her. If they didn’t, at least they were afraid of her. She starred Cleopatra in the school play. Who could be Cleopatra but her? She was so tanned, so skinny, so full of passions; who could be Cleopatra but her?

She followed her Anthony to the Great Britain. Of course her parents did not approve. Her Anthony had got nothing: no money, no influential relatives, all he had got was a flaming heart and big dreams. She followed him still: for they were inseparable and she cannot imagine her life without him. So Anthony and Cleopatra went to London, where things worked quite differently from their small hometown of Tennessee. People were making fun of Anthony’s accent. They thought he sounds too “American.” People there did not care for Anthony and Cleopatra. All they cared about was how many pennies they would be getting this week and where they could spend them all.

“My nerves are bad tonight.” She started using this excuse to turn Anthony down. He was not the same anymore. Looking into the reflection of the mirror, she knew she’s also not the same anymore. Getting old is a bitch. She’s become a chubby Cleopatra. And she knew, soon enough, she wouldn’t even need to use that excuse anymore.

She went to the bar, the cheapest bar in the neighborhood. Where she always came alone. “A gin Tonic and a Martini please.” The bartender smiled at her. All of a sudden she thought maybe she’s still got it.

“My nerves are bad tonight.” She said, taking a sip from the Gin Tonic. “But Marie, I thought you are on Stilnox. Doesn’t it work?” she continued, with a sip from the martini. “I stopped taking Stilnox. It gave me crazy dreams. I almost always have a panic attack when I wake up.” She answered herself, taking another sip from the Gin Tonic. The bartender looked at her. She smiled back. She thought, after all these years, Cleopatra’s still got it.