Tuesday, November 10, 2009

beer, interrupted

Last night was like a fun little trinket that suddenly changed into an exploding blanket made out of flaming razor blades and barbeque sauce. Painful but a bit tangy.

It was raining so I took a bicycle taxi to a brewery; that was a first. It was novel for a bit but then I realized I was sitting directly behind the “enemy”. The only redeeming fact was that the taxi driver (rider) plowed through the crowed sidewalks sending people off the curb. The entertainment value alone motivated my tip.

It was time for some beer, hot wings and football.

You know those girls who are sitting alone at a bar slowly nursing their drink waiting for a conversation? Keep away, unless you have backup (a friend with you). This was the lesson I learned while watching college football at the local brewery. She was mix between a lost hippy and 51% Native American - probably in her 40s. The kind of woman who sells birth stones, wind chimes and Indian paintings at the local swap meet. She was a Scareman, like a Scarecrow but with less straw. I was sitting at the bar watching a close game between USC and Ohio State and she said something to me I’m sure of it, but didn’t turned my head to her. I think I responded but the game was far too interesting and I didn’t want to dilute my experience. After the game was over I then turned my head raised my glass and said “evening” – this was my mistake. It was as if I just pulled the pin on a lonely ego grenade attached to an avalanche of meglamania. She talked, and talked, and talked and talked, then after that she proceeded to talk again. I was trapped, the place was packed and there were no other seats available. She finished her beer in between breaths then gave me that look. Panic started to creep in. I looked at my glass and there was a small sip left; so I pulled back the glass and finished it with joyful sarcasm. “mmmm, now that was a great German Lager” She was still giving me that look – “I think I’ll have another.” So I ordered a pint. She was still was there; speechless – as if the empty glass was directly attached to her vocal cords.

“So, are you going to buy me a drink?” she asked
“Do you need one?”
“I’d like one”
“They have seven beers on tap here, so you have a lot of choices.”
“Are you going to buy one?”
“I already have mine.”
“never mind”

Through defeat she managed to purchase another drink and continued to talk; to no surprise she picked up right where she left off. “I’m not like usual girls, blah, blah, I get hit on all the time, blah, blah I’m so unusual, I have this, blah, I’ve been here, blahh, look at me - I so don’t look my age….etc, etc,….and another exedra. I found myself looking at the numerous televisions and reading small print from a distance trying to find something more interesting. I had a half a pint left and didn’t want to pound it; it was really good beer but the bird perched next to me just didn’t stop squawking. The sound of her voice was interfering with the accuracy of my taste buds. Then the last straw was broken - she quoted Michael Jackson and held her heart in dramatic admiration. “oh, that’s it” thinking to myself. Stood up – grabbed my pint, left a tip and walked away. I meandered about the establishment until my beer was finished. It annoyed me because great beer was not designed to be finished while standing. As I walked by the bar on my way out I saw her talking to another chap; so I did what any other Lifeguard would do. Walked over and nudged the guy’s shoulder and quietly said, “Have fun with this one” and slowly took my exit.

So my lesson was, when you see someone and that feeling you get your stomach that says, “don’t say anything”? Listen to it and don’t speak a word.

Until next time,

1 comment:

  1. "exedra" --- brilliant.

    MuseNoir (flickr)