When I last went to my old Kent, Washington hangout back in '03, I'd been hoping to see it exactly as I'd left it. Even though I'd been gone for three years. Well, they hadn't just mothballed the place and wrapped it in plastic to wait for my return. Time had continued to march forward, the fucker.
There were an awful lot of people there that I had never seen before. In MY bar. It was a little disconcerting having to look around for people that I knew. I used to know everyone.
That disconcerting feeling is the same one I've been having when I enter Rich O's lately. Last night, as is typical for Fridays, the place was full of strangers. I spent the first part of the night either talking with MusicalHippeeDude and TallLady at the bar, or sitting on the sofa trying not to interact with some retarded people.
When I first went in, I saw that NABC had brought one of their old beers back. I couldn't remember if I'd liked it or not, so I ordered one:
(draft) I'd never call myself a pilsner fan, so I didn't have great expectations for this beer. Having said that, this just wasn't very good. A little citrusy, and a little bit of some odd flavor that I cannot pin down. Must be the corn. Hey, at least I tried it.
I guess I drank about two inches, which was more than enough, and then I switched back to beers I know I like. Specifically, a Smithwick's and then a Bell's Porter.
The retarded people apparently know this guy named Dave, and he is apparently the center of their universe. It was Dave this and Dave that all night long. I was trying hard not to eavesdrop, and trying equally hard not to stare at the retarded girl's breasts - easier said than done, they were right there - but I wasn't especially successful at either endeavor.
Eventually these girls (more strangers) left the island so I moved up there and was quickly joined by CuteBlonde and this dude that I didn't remember but that seemed to remember me.
For my last beer I held a gun to the bartender's head and forced him to sell me a 2004 Alaskan Smoked Porter. Man I miss that beer.
Today I really wanted to go to Indianapolis for this microbrew thingy, but I've got to harvest my lawn (it's way past mowing) and then do some laundry. I'm going to Chicago in the morning and I guess clean clothes would be useful.
Early in the night I sent off a text message to my friend Eric, inviting him and his wife to Rich O's. I guess they were busy. Kids can do that to you.
Oh yeah, I talked with VigilanteGirl for a while on the phone. I apologized for being unavailable lately, and assured her that it's not just her that's become an innocent victim of my mood.
Speaking of my mood, I was actually able to depress myself a little bit last night. This news I got Thursday has irritated me just enough that my mind has started looking for something else to occupy it. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised at what it found.