August 31, 2005

Bars

Part of me wishes I knew any of the 3 women in this photograph, particularly the blonde in the center. From the looks of the back of her head she seems to be engaged in her intimate evening. This bar could be Any Bar in Anyplace, America...however instead, it's a martini and cigar bar my kids (not actual children, rather then-roommates ST and BW) and I used to frequent in Dearborn, MI when we had enough money to enjoy the atmosphere for the price. Said bar depicted here is the Double Olive. The happy accident about this photo is the way the 3 light fixtures relate to the 3 women. I thought I would pay slight tribute to my old stomping grounds in this entry, seeing as I rattle on about my clicheed adventures in NYC as if it were the only city on the map.*ST's drink of choice here at the Double Olive was the Bloody Martini, a Bloody Mary martini combo, obviously, which usually contained, curled in the bottom of its glass, a seriously booze-drenched pickle (versus an olive). When she didn't get the pickle she'd request it. Anyway, ST and BW are now engaged and will marry in September in lovely Detroit. I am standing up for ST and Craig is joining me to revisit the initial place where he and I met, where we stole kisses at various watering holes in and around the metro area. We will fly into Ed McNamara World Gateway on a Friday evening, and possibly will find ourselves throwing back a cocktail at the Double Olive later that night. A buddy of ours from back in the day in the D, JW, has announced that a spin through the Wagon Wheel, another old popular hang out for us circa 2001-2002, is imperative. If in fact JW drives in from Pittsburgh for the wedding as he claims he will, perhaps we will satisfy his request. Although, now that we are all in our late 20's and more aware of what we missed while living in the 313 (cheers, Eminem) possibly we will just take a cab into Royal Oak and mix with the yuppier fashioned crowds there. Plus, I'm not sure if I can endure Craig, JW, and BG's sullied off-key rendition of "Sweet Child of Mine" this much later in my life. That and several pitchers of Miller Lite and you've experienced the Wheel. Ah, and encounters with bitter ex-girlfriends giving chilled looks as they stalk through the parking lot. Oh, the days.*This past week has been really hard (understatement; sorry, my words aren't right and I can't do the situation its due justice) on the states of Louisiana and Mississippi. Mother Nature has displayed her frank fierceness in the touchdown of this recent hurricane. Living down here has widened my eyes to the impact weather can have...not that I wasn't aware living in the Midwest...although, truthfully, weather and additionally all of U.S. news has become more powerful to me now, having left a region of the country I've always known. That may make such little sense, but it's almost as if I must keep one ear to the ground for something to happen where my family and other friends live, now that I am away. My dad called me last night to check on Craig and me, make certain we were out of harm's way. I assured my dad we're unscathed. My dad's chronology of the weather was a little bit off because he was in Dallas earlier in the week, which was when Atlanta and northern Georgia experienced tornadoes and hard rain. But it was a sweet gesture for my dad to think of us.*Today I purchased our tickets to see Liz Phair at the Roxy in October. Against probably better financial judgement, but I'm grateful nonetheless, Craig bought us tickets to see Vince Vaughn's comedy tour (Vince is hosting and doing interim improv, only) in late September. This weekend we see Jack Johnson at Chastain Amphitheater. I am really lucky to have Craig who likes events and happenings equally if not more than I.

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