CafeChatNoir

I am a creature of habit. In less complimentary terms it has also been described as “predictable,” “pleasantly boring,” as well as “so ridiculously set in her ways she will never find a man that will put up with her.”

But I’m OK with it. I once asked a bartender if my consistency in ordering made me predictable or pathetic. She said, “It makes you a good customer.” She really knew how to earn her tips.

There is the rare occasion where I deviate from the norm. Not often, but it does happen. And it worries people…

This afternoon I submitted my final paper and put the lid on another class. I then picked up a non-textbook and went outside and sat in the sun and read and dreamed of world travels. It was a good, hot, sunny day and this put the idea of margaritas into my head. Had I actually had the ingredients to make a pitcher here at the house, I would have, but I didn’t, so I kept reading and drinking Gatorade for the course of the afternoon.

Hoofed it up to the pub for some “it’s Friday night/my class is done/my brain can rot for a month” socialization and libations. This is where it went a tad sideways, and eventually I got ratted out to the manager…

I still had margaritas on the brain and near had to jump the bar to keep the bartender from hitting the Guinness tap (she’s a very good bartender) to ask for a margarita.

Her answer? “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” (With a look on her face that said I asked for Red Bull and rat poison.)

But she came through for me and the margs hit the spot head on. Then I asked for a Corona as a chaser. Because you can’t follow a margarita with a Guinness. (They simply do *not* blend well.) This is when the bartender turned to the manager and said, “Cindy’s messing us up!!!!!!!!!” This particular manager, not knowing my habits like the back of his hand, looked at her and said, “Corona is good, what’s the problem?”

My brother nailed it quite well when asked why I was going off the rails as far as my usual consistency goes. “I think she’s in beach mode.” (He’s quite smart.)

Hot sunny day, the beach is a mere two weeks away, I can let my brain rot for a little bit? Yes, I suspect I am in beach mode, which is sunshine, fruity drinks, and Coronas.

It’s not a bad mode to be in, even if it does upend the bartender occasionally.

Walked into the pool hall this evening and things seemed to be perfectly on par with any other night, until a gentleman at the end of the bar said, “I’d like to buy you a beer on my friend’s tab.”

There appeared to be no intimation of further discussion or any other activties, just the simple offer of a beer to a fellow pub-goer.

I shrugged and said, “Well, um, OK.”

In return I got the Obama Terrorist Fist Bump and, “That’s just how we roll.”

I can deal with that. (I did apologize for my beer of choice being an import vs. a domestic.) They also purchased my next adult beverage with no expectations of conversation or well, anything. At the end of the night, the first gentleman did say it would be great if I could “smack [his friend] on the ass and say thanks” – except his friend was then waylaid, so I offered to smack him on the backside and say thanks and call it even. He was completely OK with that, and I had no issues with it. (It’s been a while since I had someone say it was OK for me to smack them…*)

So, I easily caved and gave him a whack on the ass with a sincere thanks for the beer and all went off with silly giggles.

I then realized that I had quite possibly prostituted myself out to someone with a mild spanking fetish for two beers. Not sure what it says about me that it really didn’t bother me that much… Cause it’s not like there appeared to be any expectation of anything else.

Perhaps it’s time to rethink what my next move in life is.

* And I could only do it in exchange for money for the soda machine. But it was great to have a coworker that you could say, “I need to hit someone… I’ll buy you a Coke for it!”

Think very smart thoughts for my bartender buddy Wes tomorrow – he’s got an important exam and we can always use all the help we can get in these things. :)

Also, why is it that thoughts that will drive you to giggles only seem to happen when you really can’t laugh? I went up to the pub for a beer and some west coast baseball tonight to shut my brain off. I am contentedly sitting there watching the Yankees get crushed by the Angels, and I glance over at the guy to my left and all I can think is, “Dude, where is Snowy??” Had he been further down the bar, I could have burst into hysterical laughter, but nooooooooooo… Even worse when I realized that there was probably NO ONE in the place that would have had any idea what I was referring to – being the oldster sucks some days.

An acquaintance is in a family where all the cars are basically shared and such and everyone has a set of keys to all cars. Good if you misplace your keys or lock them in the car, or need to take the bigger vs. smaller car, but it does have it’s hazards.

It’s not at all uncommon for cars to be left overnight in the side parking lot of the pub on the weekends as folks pile into cabs or seek alternate transportation when leaving for the evening. This motley crew regroups the next morning to retrieve the autos left behind, quiet nods are exchanged and all are usually thinking the same things…

Why do the birds have to be so loud this morning?
Does the sun have to shine that brightly?
Will I ever learn that shots are not a good idea?

or

Um, where is my car?

Inquires were made in the pub, no towing operations have taken place. The morning crew says the car wasn’t there when they got in. We’re all quite sure the car was still there the night before. Finally a cell phone rings. “Oh, I needed your car so I came up and got it this morning and forgot to leave you a message…”

Quite the way to get your day started.

A little fashion and etiquette advice:

First, there is really nowhere outside a gym or 1986 where a muscle shirt is acceptable. Second, wandering around the pub and flexing and hovering around the women gets you absolutely nowhere – as a matter of fact, it quickly makes you the subject of ridicule. Third, when you take a seat at the bar and someone tells you that someone is in fact sitting there and you will need to vacate the seat, vacate the damn seat already and don’t try and walk off with someone else’s beer.

Following these easy tips can make the evening at the pub enjoyable for all. Not following these tips could very well result in someone taking a swing at you, or at minimum declaring, “Dude, you suck.”

and wireless and the ability (and temps) to post from my deck in the middle of the night.

It’s been a long week. Funny how being there for a friend who may be going through something big & scary can take as much, if not more, out of you than if you were going through it yourself. A professional chauffeur would have been much less affected by the entire situation that I was…

Went out for drinks tonight and made a new friend, in a matter of speaking. She’s a friend of a friend and apparently had a VERY rough week and as happens with those types of weeks, her regular Friday night drinks hit her like a Mac truck. Given that our mutual friend is a guy, and her gentleman friend is a guy (well, being a “gentleman friend” kinda says it) when it all came down on her like a ton of bricks, guess who was her escort to the ladies room for the remainder of the evening? Bless her heart, she was mortified (as we all are when such things occur) and I spent a lot of time reassuring her that we have ALL been there. I just finally flat out said, “Not to pry, but have you had some ugly emotionaln upheaval this week?” – and the answer was a resounding, ‘oh, hells yes’. Bingo – that type of thing will flatten you faster than any number of Jagerbombs will. (Been there, done that – puked my guts up at my granddad’s’ 80th b-day after a couple drinks and a toast that indicated he’d not be around much longer…)

She had arrangements to get home that were superseded by the bartender calling one of her daughters (of age) and I spent a couple minutes letting her daughter know that her Mom was mortified, and bless her, she said the same thing I had told her Mom – we’ve ALL been there. Yay for kids who understand but would otherwise never admit to their parents: that emotions + a few drinks = puking.

I did have someone ask me why I even speak w/ Cpt Jackass* anymore, as in his eyes, ‘he treats you like crap’ – to be honest, I couldn’t even tell you, but I find that I’m happy and I tend to look at the world differently when I’m around him – and I like it – so who knows. And frankly, he’s never asked me to change, which I can’t say of any other guy I’ve ever been involved with on any level.

And as I’m sitting here on my deck, I get a text from the Captain telling me how he just managed to pet a wild fox that wandered into his yard. Why am I the one that gets that news vs. anyone else on the planet? Well, hell, draw your own conclusions on that one, cause I am just going with jealousy over the fact that I have NEVER gotten to pet a fox around here.

* Someone that I’ve come to know & expect his ups & downs. For those of you that are familiar with the poem of “people come into your life for a reason/a season/a lifetime” – he probably only qualifies in the “reason” category, but it wouldn’t bother me if I was wrong on that one.

All I can say is that I really, REALLY hope that when Moxley goes out and starts chasing invisible squirrels at inappropriate times of the evening is that my neighbors can also hear me chasing after him trying to get him to shut the hell up and get back inside. I’m not the most experienced dog owner and I still can’t tell the difference between dog language of “I need to go out and hit the head” and “I want to go chase and bark at things that aren’t actually there.” The little cute-yet-obnoxious one is sitting at the back door yet again looking pathetic. Sorry bud, we’re not gonna anger the neighbors anymore than we may have already done. (However, I can tell you that there was another dog in the near vicinity outside at the same time, so it’s not only MY idiot dog chasing invisible animals in the middle of the night.)

And now for something completely different, and it really is, about a month ago I was introduced to a drink/shot/whatever – a Jagerbomb. Now, I’ve been offered Jagermeister shots before, and I can smell them from a mile away and I know better than to accept them. Fortunately, they have been sent in front of me by folks who were also more than willing to take them back and take care of them and substitute the drink of my choice. However, the Jagerbomb incident was one of those “you can’t turn it down” situations. So, I tried it. To be perfectly honest, I was thrilled that I got it down with no adverse effects. (For those wondering why I would accept a drink not even knowing for sure if it would end up in a contest for color and distance, well, it was just one of those things…I think we’ve all been there.)

What has surprised me is the fact that this particular indulgence has grown on me. It’s not something I’d have more than one of in a given evening if I could ever possibly avoid it, because in essence it is still a shot, despite the Red Bull addition, but there is something about it that makes me understand why these suckers are apparently quite popular. As far as the taste – it’s like Root Beer, slightly stale or fresh out of the bottle, depending on how it’s done. At my GD’s, they come pre-mixed, because they have no actual shot glasses… Something about they get broken (or possibly stolen) way too often, so they stopped buying new shot glasses and the bartenders just get to serve shots in regular glasses. Makes it difficult to do a drop & drink, but I didn’t know any different – and when they’re pre-mixed, they taste like Root Beer that is starting to go a tad on the flat side. The other evening, I had one at the after-hours bar (it’s not really “after hours”, but they’re open later than anyone in town, so…), and it was a “do it yourself” Jagerbomb. Feeling ever so slightly mortified at my lack of experience on the DIY side, I had to ask someone, “WTF do I do? Is it drop & drink or some ritual I’m not aware of?!” Nope, just d & d. Well, damn, now I get it. When you do a d & d on these, it’s like you’ve just cracked a cold bottle of Root Beer. That would explain the attraction to be sure.

So, the moral of the story is…wait, this is essentially about drinking, so OK, no real “moral” to it, cause well, the moral of that story would be “stick with coffee” or something along those lines, but I suppose it is “don’t be afraid to try something new and be prepared to not hate it.” If you’re ever offered a Jagerbomb and you like Root Beer, give it a go – it may surprise you. But stick with just one in an evening, cause I can see how this could get ugly very quickly.

*Jagermeister = a licorice liquor, somewhat similar to Sambuca, but a strange dark color, stronger smell and frankly, a little scary, especially considering that the bottle looks like a cough syrup remedy from pioneer days.
** Jagerbomb = Red Bull + shot of Jager dropped in it.

Honestly, I somehow thought I’d shed the “hey, if you’re not from around here, please talk to me!” vibe I had going on. Granted, tonight’s misanthrope was already sitting in the jackass seat* when I got there, but damn…if you’ve not been in the area for even 5 years, don’t start arguing with a gal over the museum offerings when she has been here 20+ years and you’re a Eastern European import via 17 years in Boston, and she is currently a HISTORY major… Trust me, when I tell you something about the museums, I do know of which I speak, and NO they are not all free here in DC, you fuckwit. Secondly, if you hear me utter the words, “You arrogant prick”, you can rest assured I will not be accepting any drink offers from you, and most surely will not be heading out for another after hours watering hole with you… But if you’re too busy spouting off how much you “know” about the DC area, I suppose you won’t get it. And for the record, only going into DC to visit “gentleman’s clubs”, does NOT count as going into the city on a regular basis, nor does it grant you any privilege to speak of the various and sundry museums the city has to offer.

In less contentious, yet equally serious news, I discovered this evening that I was the only Duke fan in the pub as I was the ONLY one quite literally standing on my seat as Duke attempted a Hail Mary Three Pointer with no time left on the overtime clock, and dammit, missed it and lost to UVA.

But in the “all crap has it’s silver lining” category, because of my freak friend, I discovered that GD’s is “selling” bar side seats for the Super Bowl. You buy a $25 gift card and you get a guaranteed bar seat for the game. Little bro will be inebriated w/his friends down in Blacksburg this weekend, and well hells bells, why not? I actually like the Colts enough to cheer for them, why not do it with a barside seat? (I even got to pick my spot.) Quite literally, I need to remember that I have to be there by 6PM Sunday… Little bro has offered to text and remind me, just in case. Hell, why not?

And apparently SkySports will be showing the Super Bowl this weekend, for folks that are into “American Football” – and they’re asking who will be doing halftime… Hell, I don’t even know that.

*The jackass seat: It’s an odd phenomenon, but it would seem that whomever sits at the far leftmost bar seat (as you walk in the bar) is a jackass. I’ve seen it happen too many times to write it off to coincidence, it is truly the jackass seat. There have been evenings where I have taken it solely for the purpose of defeating it’s karma and just been pleasant and very quiet all evening, but it has not erased the predestination of that particular barstool.

Well, the magician in the plaid pants either didn’t show, or hooked up early and went home… (Backstory) Though everyone did get a good giggle out of the posting speculating who it was written about, though we have no idea who would have posted it.

Gotta say, craigslist is always good for a laugh.

Someone knew I needed some entertainment. (Yes, I cruise craigslist for shits & giggles and the inevitable thread of two people thinking they’re talking to their lost love only to find out they have NO idea who the other person is.)

http://washingtondc.craigslist.org/nva/mis/266729026.html

Aww, snap, it’s been flagged. Funny how a copy has already been printed to give to the bartenders… (The title was “Meet ME tonight! at Glory Days in Burke, TONIGHT! – m4w – 39)

I’ll be dressed in plaid slacks, no underwear beneath (the cold makes me happy inside), polo sweater with my initials on the collar, and a fat smile on my face.

See you tonight! Are you the special one for 1/22/07? You’ll never know unless you come on out! No repeat visits please.