Rec

In my imagination, there's this bar I go to every once in a while when I feel like going out into the world. It's got a good juke box; there's live music now and then; the bartenders are competent, good humored and nice to look at; and the patrons are interesting. It must be a conglomeration of places I've been in my life. The point is though, I don't have such a place in my waking life and am reminded of that fact every time I try to go out - which has become increasingly less frequent over time.

A few evenings ago, I chose a Mexican place in a white college town in close proximity to a laundromat where a machine washed my clothes. I ordered a mezcal margarita with salt - which was good - although I'm no expert. The bartender was one of those people who do not seem to realize how loud they are. This is judgmental of me, I know, but it's a peeve of mine. Worse than loud was the small talk. Typical, but the kind you'd hear between people who are already acquainted with each other. We weren't. Two Xs.

There were three other people sitting at the bar. The woman to my right was a camp counselor stopping in for dinner after work. She was ok with me. The other two were a man and woman about my age talking to each other with a couple of stools between them. 

The woman was showing pictures or video on her phone of apparent paranormal activity in her home. She was petite with a bright smile, lively eyes, and a lot of energy. Attractive, with an occasional glance my way. She talked a continuous stream. She jumped from the paranormal to a new romantic interest. A gentleman with money she'd met at a jazz performance. She talked about his money a little too long and in a little too much detail. What she really wanted though, was a man who would engage her. The more she talked, the less engaged I became. 

The man was compact and lean. He appeared kind of stingy and cruel. He talked about his properties, his money, the idea of living on a cruise ship for a year and subletting his cabin for certain legs of the trip during which he'd prefer to explore other countries.

I ran with that idea for a while, but a cruise ship is jam-packed with people and, for me, that would get old inside of 24 hours. When I'd stopped day dreaming about sunrises and sunsets on the ocean, I tuned back into the conversation. 

He was talking about student loan forgiveness and how kids were missing out on the lesson about the value of hard work by having them so easily forgiven. He suggested that many of these same kids were, at least slightly, overweight due to the general lack of hard work in their lives. His solution was to put them on elliptical trainers connected to the power grid and to have them pay their loans back in that way. 

I wished a friend of mine a happy birthday recently on social media. We haven't seen each other in years. She said she hoped I wasn't becoming too much of a curmudgeon as I aged. I think I've still got some room to grow.