You can’t get fat eating yourself.
A saying I just thought of
2
I was walking up vinohrady today and there was a guy standing in front of the Skoda store reading the specs of the latest model. “Don’t do it!” I wanted to tell him. “If you buy that car, you will turn into an American!” Alas, my czech is woefully insufficient for communicating anything remotely abstract.
It starts when they rack the balls. They put the eight ball on the dot rather than the one ball. Sinking a ball on the break should be automatic. They do deal with scratches in bar pool more harshly than the Americans do, which I like. And there is more strategy with the 8-ball, except you don’t lose if you scratch while playing it. So it’s not all bad. But here’s the worst part: When you play pool in Europe, lucky shots count. This means that hitting the ball really hard is rewarded. Nobody plays with any touch at all. Even big slice shots they hit as hard as they can, and there’s no thought to where the cue ball might end up.
I was watching people play tonight and I put it to myself like this: in the US, you must predict the action of your shot. You can get lucky, but only if your stated goal is also met.
It’s a shame Americans think that way only while playing pool.
I was watching a hockey game at a bar the other day. The home team scored a goal, and of course the place went nuts. They showed the crowd waving huge banners, and there, up in front, was a guy with a full-sized accordion. Must be the Czech Republic.
I haven’t decided who to root for yet – I want to make sure I don’t accidentally become a Yankees fan.
We all like to be recognized. When we walk into a room, we want people to turn and say ‘hello’. It’s not vanity, it’s the need to belong somewhere, to have a place to go where no matter how full of crap your friends are, (it’s never you), they will welcome you and be honestly happy to see you. That’s what being a regular is all about.
Even on my travels, I want to be a regular. While someday I may market the Accelerated Regularization System(tm), for now I share my observations with all ten of my readers for free.
Tonight’s discussion is how to recognize when you have reached regularity. Normally this is not a big deal, it’s just a side effect of finding a place you like to be. There was a bar in Pacific Beach, the Second Wind, where I was a regluar, but not frequent, patron. Eventually Suzanne, my favorite bartender there, came to recognize me, as did other regulars. There was no magic moment when I became a regular.
However, in the Accelerated Regularization System(tm), you have to watch for the signs. Once you know the signs, you can make sure you cross the thresholds more quickly. Here are the measurements:
The greeting from the bartender:
The bartender asking your order:
The regular sitting next to you says:
To the unknown sitting next to you, you say:
At last call bartender says:
When you decide to go in:
It is possible to be a regular without sitting at the bar. While it is possible, it is not easy to become a fixture without sitting at the bar. I managed to pull this off through many years of sitting at a table writing. It is not part of the Accelerated Regularization System(tm). You cannot be a fly from a table.
When in San Diego, I have a favorite bar I started going to the week they opened, fifteen years ago. Triska and I had our wedding shower there. During my ‘married’ phase I didn’t get in so often, but I was still regular. When I began writing in earnest I started going in very often, and became, more or less, the laptop guy. One day, I went in with some friends. I waited at the “Please wait to be seated” sign, and Hope just pointed me to my usual table, then stopped short when she realized that there were other people with me. “Oh! You have friends!” she said. In retrospect, I think that was confirmation of my fixturehood. (Melinda, you might be interested to know that Hope is largely responsible for how much sex there is in Rio Blanco.)
As far as accelerating your regularization, there are two really, really, important things. Learn your bartenders’ names, and make sure they learn yours. Of secondary importance is learning the names of the other regulars. Those who know me will not be surprised to hear that there are people I have sat next to on a barstool for years and I have no idea what their names are. But I know which ones will give me a good argument when I say “Raiders suck” or “George Bush is an idiot”.