As I alluded to last weekend, we’re settling in nicely. Takes a while to adjust and really start to get plugged in but we’re nearly there. One thing is for certain right up front: a 20 minute walk to work is a hell of a lot better than a 45-60 minute car ride.
Anyhow, it takes a little willpower not to be slightly bitter about how the details of our move transpired. Feels a little like we lost a couple weekends of kayaking. Lamentable… Fortunately there’s still plenty of summer left and I don’t see why we can’t keep paddling clear into October like every other year. First things first though, new car means a new rack. (We’ll sort out where to store them during the winter later on…) Hopefully it doesn’t also mean new cross-bars and attachments… Six years of year-round use do take their toll on those parts.
All of the above said, feels like we’re starting to get into a decent routine here. And with the busy weeks ahead, that will be a little bit of comfort.
update: Yes, I know the del.icio.us sidebar and page are both broken. No, I didn’t change anything. No, I don’t know what’s wrong. No, apparently is the most current version.
We’re out on the town. Not bar-hopping per se but we were on the lookout for a pub or a lounge following some dinner out. We come across a bar (which appears to have replaced RiRa) on Church Street. We go up to the door but the hostess stops us. There is apparently a wait and though we have some kind of connection with the place (friends with the owners? regulars?) they can’t afford to show preferential treatment. So she puts out names on the list. A.’s name goes in slot number 9 and mine goes way down in slot 24. Those were just the slots that were open.
And we wait outside for a spell.
Eventually the hostess calls A.’s name and says that she can go in. I explain that we’re a couple, a pair, and that we go in together or not at all. The door is cracked open a bit and I point out that there seems to be no real reason that we can’t both be let in. It’s not all that packed. She explains that A. is at slot number 9 and I’m at 24 and that’s just how it goes. Everyone in between is either already inside or not responding to the call and folks need to be let in consecutively. So I smile at her, casually grab the paper and make like a M.A.D. fold-in so that “there sweetheart, now 9 and 24 are consecutive”. It’s right then that I notice the sign about a cover charge that no one collected from us.
Once inside, we take up spots at the bar and chat while we wait for the bartender (who happens to be quite friendly with us) to take our orders. I request a Manhattan and he makes a face at me. We make fun of each other for a bit, all in good humor. Eventually he slides the drinks over and mentions to us that he’s glad we kept quiet about the special event of the evening. We’re not sure what he means and we don’t get a chance to ask because we notice our friends P. & S. across the bar. We get him to beckon them over to us. Almost as soon as they trot over though, a TV crew comes in and start directing people where to sit and how to sit (they tell me to slouch way down and lean to one side, “look sloppy”). Apparently they’re running a story on the place. Between the free drinks and the media coverage, it was quite a night, indeed.
