It's pretty dead here. There are about 10 strangers, including a bunch of beatniks in the living room. Some dipshit is in my favorite seat at the bar, so I'm sitting at the island. My beer: A bottle of Avery The Reverend. That's right, a rematch from last night.
There are strangers working tonight. The regulars are all at some wedding.
All three of those beatnik girls are hot.
CuteBartender just stopped and talked to me some. She's cute as a bug. Oh yeah, CuteBartender is working tonight, so it's not all strangers.
I think the two blonde beatnik girls are twins. Mmmmmm, hot twins.
These idiots behind me are talking about how the Rich O's in Nashville is better because you can get burgers there. News Flash: There's only one Rich O's, and you're sitting in it. You dumbasses.
Burgers would be cool though.
That brunette beatnik girl is smoldering hot. She looks like HatGirl, except slutty.
Reverend, your name tries to mask your true nature, but I am not fooled. Tonight, I am ready. Tonight, you will be defeated.
I wonder what SassyGirl is doing right now. (checking watch, calculating time difference) Probably sleeping. She wouldn't think any of these beatnik girls are hot. She never liked any of the girls I liked.
I miss SassyGirl.
These temporary bartenders have an annoying habit of looking at me all the time. I am not, as I've already stated, a piece of meat.
This dingbat behind me just asked me why the red room is called the red room. I told her that it might have something to do with the wall that's painted red, but that my money was on the 11,000 pieces of Communist memorabilia on the walls.
The ghost is here.
The ghost is leaving.
There a surprise party in the red room now. I'm picking up my shit and moving to the bar.
The beatniks are leaving.
Who the fuck was that?
There's a chick with a laptop, not LaptopGirl, pretty much the opposite of LaptopGirl in fact, and her laptop's screen is way too bright. It's filling the room with an eerie glow. It looks like aliens are invading.
ArtistGuy just came in. He's fucking plastered. Or exhausted. I'm betting on plastered.
CuteBartender won't take that bet.
And The Reverend (180) is down! Dave wins! Dave wins!
I order a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1547).
I've been talking to the dipshit. He's pretty cool. He was going to buy a DaveFest shirt but I'm out of his size.
They're perfect, I bet. Firm and perky and just the right size.
I order a Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen (52).
The wedding party has arrived.