I was never a fan of the trendy bar scene. Even when I was 21, I would rather stay home. Why? 1) If I can get drunk for $15 or $50, give me $15. I’m cheap, but like to drink. If shoe polish gave me a buzz, I’d drink that. 2) DUI’s. Look officer, that’s kids’ swingset jumped right out in front of my car. How am I supposed to drive through this yard with all these obstacles in my way? 3) Douchebags.
I went out with some co-workers and my lady (one guy, three women – spoiler alert, I didn’t talk much) to a new and exciting bar with 75 beers on tap. I realized it was a trendy bar (let’s keep the number format going) because 1) I saw a guy with a manpurse. Manpurse is an oxymoron, but that’s the only way to describe it. Nice purse, sweetie. 2) Big haired women wearing slut gear talking to old men. This is a dead giveaway that you’re in a “cool” joint. Old guys w/ money chasing women who will take it. I have a soft spot for old fashioned romance. 3) No place to stand or sit. I think it’s great when the server bumps into my back 12 times. Trust me, I would LOVE to move, but the only open spot is the women’s room and I have a few court orders telling me I can’t hang out there.
We got a seat and all my cares melted away…except that I saw a record number of guys wearing designer tank tops and two popped collars. Oh, and my parking meter has four minutes left on it. Nothing like getting a $75 ticket because you’re too cheap to put that additional quarter in the meter. Looks like I am drinking at home again. Where’d I put that shoe polish?