The waitress, who has the ass of a 10 year old boy, is now wiping the bar and will soon be drawing more beer. It's 12 oz, draft or domestic bottle for 2.25 day and she is busy. I admire the cleanliness of this joint and the way the colored LED ropes above the bar change colors, they seem to be on a 5 minute timer. One more room is available in front of the bar and it has a couple of pool tables and a dart board. I can't help it, but the mood, ambiance, and color scheme of the place, are all mentally noted and may end up in a story somewhere some time.
My ear-plugs are in although I'm not listening to anything and several of the patrons are looking at me out of the sides of their eyes as if I am a curiosity. I know they would be trying to make conversation if not for the headphones, and honestly that's why they are in.
My spidey sense tells me I could do the bartender if I put in the effort, but I won't. She reeks of single-motherhood, grief, drama, and the latest fragrance by Avon. I don't need any of these things. I am already married and in *love* and it only gets more complicated after that, so I'll leave it be.
I like this bar and will be back. I stay for one beer, and one beer only. I don't need the hassle of drinking and driving, or the risk of banging up Melvin the scooter. Plus I only brought a single five dollar bill, and would feel very silly pulling out the debit card for beer.
I finish my beer, and drop two singles, in the tip Jar. "Thanks Miss." I say as I walk out the door and she is saying something else but I pretend I don't hear.. it's EZ with the ear-phones.
I notice the outside tables where you can smoke and drink beer at the same time and I have to give them credit for that here in the, smoking dope is cool, but cigarettes are of the devil, liberated State Of California.
I also notice the parking lot is right next to the beer drinking and cigarette smoking section and I can only imagine the ass-kickings that have been handed out and received, and the amount of blood that has been spilled on the gritty asphalt. I don't know for sure but I'll bet a dollar dollar more blood has been spilled then beer.
This concludes.. This.