I sometimes miss going to bars; the soft lighting, the music, the conversations (often inspired, or at least they seemed so) with strangers, the hale and hearty, (and I mean hearty not hardy although that can work too) well met, good show, camaraderie of it all. "Let me buy these fellas a round." There was always smoke in the air and one in my hand and I miss that too. Bartenders and cocktail waitresses are for the most part friendly people whose job is to help you have a good time no matter what mood you might have brought to the room. And over the years I brought every mood in my repertoire from feeling low to feeling good - okay, those are my only two - at one time or another, and I seldom left without having them altered to the high side, no pun intended.
Nowadays we go to the bar, Woowoo Charly, RTGFKAR and I, to meet friends for a civilized cocktail or two and we sit at a table while making our small conversations. Don't misunderstand me, it is quite nice and I look forward to those occasions. Sometimes though, if I can see the bar from where I sit and there are people there drinking, laughing, interacting, I feel the urge to join them, hear what they are talking about, have a laugh or two myself. It is, I suppose, "remembrance of things past" that inspires the urge, because I know it is not a rational desire. I know the bar "scene" is for younger men and unless I'm in the company of centenarians, I can't be counted as among that group. (Among is a funny word to say repeatedly.) My group is the one that has a hangover after four drinks not fourteen.
I can't remember the last time I went into a bar with no agenda and, here's the important part, no timetable. I could stay as long as I wanted to or as long as I was able to. Most of the time the nebulous concept of "tomorrow" was enough to keep me from "staying too long at the bar" but for sure there were times when it didn't. It is not the latter of those two that I miss. It's the former. It's leaving with a head full of new jokes, tidbits of conversations to be passed along, and a lighter heart that are causing me this morning to "wax nostalgic."
Hmmmm.......but now I'm done. The nostalgia is polished to a high shine and I'm ready to move on. So here's to the good old days I say as I raise my coffee cup. And here's to tomorrow. Best of all though, I say raising my Cafe Ruiz "Volcan Baru" mug even higher, here's to now.
The Past was fun, but the Present is always the best of all. I know because the Woowoos tell me so.
Monday, November 09, 2009
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3 comments:
ah, i love it when you get nostalgic, pops! you can stay there a good long while, you know. no need to rush off so fast.
if you want, i'll show you how to stay there for days! months! years! with a strong dose of melancholy added in for extra fun!
but what about the bars you frequented when you were here in brooklyn? you have your favorites. the bartenders all remember you even though it was a full year since you'd last been in.
didn't you have a few afternoons of good fun sitting at the bar, like what you describe here?
Don't show me and don't do it! I'll be forced to try and cheer you up and that never goes well.
Maria, the bartender at the sports bar is the only one that remembered me. But then, that's the obly bar I went to more than once. Watching the Broncos play on their TV was Big Fun, especially the second week with Dave. We may have even had too much Bif Fun that day.
(My typos make it sound like I'm having too much fun already today and it's only seven in the morning.)
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