Saturday, January 20, 2007
Last night, after finally returning the hellacious iPod transponder to Best Buy, I went to "The Club". I don't know why I go there. I guess because I get bored and lonely, usually the cause for such an outing. I figured, it was Friday night...nothing much better to do. I had taken a nap and it was too early to go to bed.
I find something strange about sitting at a bar stool by myself. I don't particularly like it. I don't like to face into the bar, in that position, my fears of being a career alcoholic ring forth. So instead, with rum and coke in hand, I turn and face the "audience", if you would, so that I'm at least making myself available for conversation, however fleeting. The first hour or so of the evening there usually isn't much conversation but after a drink or two people start to loosen up. Whether that's my loosening up or theirs, I'm not sure - perhaps a bit of both. Of course you have the groups of people that come in together. They're always having fun. But us lonely birds stick it out until someone (or me) decides to strike up a conversation. I'm not looking for verbose discussion on the state of Iraqi or to bandy about global warming, although some, in drunken stupor, attempt to. With music blaring and eyes cruising, it's not the place. No, I just like people and getting to know them. "Where you from? Really? Me too!" or "Cool hat..." The conversation is kept light. From that, you occasionally met a friend that's worthy of getting together outside the bar but most bar friends are just that bar friends. You know them at the bar, only at the bar and if you pass by each other outside the bar, very rare, you give a friendly hello and that's about it. Once in a great, great while you meet someone with which you'd like to hang.
One such good friend I met at the bar is Rob. I've mentioned him in the past. Bandit calls him Uncle Rob. Well, I'm a bit upset with Uncle Rob right now and here is why: For a variety of reasons Rob and I have not been able to hook up since before the holidays, so the other day we got together and exchanged presents. Well...(here comes the why I'm mad part) he bought Bandit several things one of which is this red apple-sized super ball. Well, Bandit will not part with this thing. And quite frankly, will have nothing to do with me, unless it involves this friggin' ball. As I write, I'm hearing him bounce it, at 7:00 am, on the upstairs hardwood floors keeping the entire household awake. If I take it away. He cries. Bring him outside, the ball comes with him. When he comes back in, the ball comes in too. Up to bed, he takes it upstairs and sleeps with it. I'm hoping he wears tired of it soon but so far it doesn't look as if that is happening anytime soon. This is just getting crazy. When watching tv, he gets the ball and drops it at your feet until you throw it back and forth for an hour. This dog loves balls! And especially anything from Uncle Rob.
Anyway, Rob is a dear, dear friend. Of course, he wasn't at "The Club" last night. So I sat alone until the night wore on. Nonetheless, I missed his witty sarcasm.