It was never about the first beer.
The first beer was to get started, to improve my mood. To leave behind the day and reset, perhaps start an adventure.
I drank my first beer with my other hand up, to order a second. What if I finished that beer, and the second beer wasn’t there?
While drinking my second beer, I would scan the table. Was there enough beer in the pitcher for my third? Could someone be emptying the pitcher – and drinking my next beer?
After draining the second beer, I would pause.
Are my friends here? Is this a new place? How is the crowd? What if I get bored? Her, might she like me?
I would decide whether to stay, stop in next door, or head home. It was early.
But if the company was good and I felt fine, I would need a third beer to start an adventure.
The bartender asked, “One more?” “Another,” I said.