One Second There, One Second Gone

Those of you from the area might have read in the paper about the bartender from Cheers nightclub who was murdered Thursday night. Yeah, I knew her. Not well, but I’d had conversations with her. My husband knew her much better as until about six months ago, they were coworkers.

Thursday night she worked as usual, bartending, before driving home. She never made it inside. Her family grew curious when her car remained parked outside, but they hadn’t heard from her. Checking the inside of her vehicle, they found Mayvette. She had been shot inside of her vehicle.

The police are still not sure who did this. There are several rumors floating around. She might have seen or heard something at the bar that she shouldn’t have. She might have been friends with members from rivalling gangs who became territorial over her. She might have angered a customer who then followed her home. The police have said that she was targeted specifically, though.

It’s a very strange feeling. Part of me wishes that I had gotten to know her better, but the other part of me knows that I’d be in a world of hurt right now if we’d become good friends. I feel odd because just knowing who she was doesn’t seem like enough. Enough of what, I don’t know. I feel like I should have REALLY known her, or not known her at all. I don’t think that simply knowing who she was gives me any right to feel anything other than acknowledgement at her murder.

But she was murdered. And I’m good friends with some of her friends. I don’t know. It’s just strange.

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