Open Bar

Got up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. I’d stayed with Bill and Joanne, leaving my car tied up to the hitching post at Callahan’s. I got up earlier than I had been, tried to come up with a good subject for an episode for this blog, failed, and just drifted around on the Internet for a while. Sometimes after an episode which which I’m particularly pleased I have a tough time coming up with something good enough to justify pushing the good one out of the top spot. But this is the Internet, and has a voracious appetite for new. I drank some tea, but was soon yearning to be reunited with my toothbrush. Ride to car, drive to Pacific Beach, clean the choppers; I’m ready to go.

Sluka’s was next, of course, then the library. It’s funny how quickly I’ve fallen into that routine considering how unstructured the rest of my life is. I got back and Amy arrived soon after, trying to juggle her life so she could take a quick trip back to Florida to see her family, who are right in the center of the devastation from hurricane Charley. Apparently they’re getting bottled water now, but they have no electricity and no beer. Amy can’t take them 120V AC, but a transcontinental beer run is in the offing. Tally Ho!

In the afternoon Amy went to get some work done on her car to resolve a fix-it ticket (imagine that!) and I actually got a couple of things done. The big one was getting her old laptop set up so she can freeload off the neighbor’s wireless network. Amy is now Internet-enabled. Tremble in fear, citizens of the Web! Of course my reasons for setting her up were purely selfish; I can’t remember the last time I wrote a letter on that paper stuff.

Later Paul came over and the Packers game was on and Amy cooked up a fantastic meal and there was beer and all was good. It was decided: after the game we’d go to the Open Bar. We were all feeling jolly. The Pack lost and off we went.

I have only been to the open bar a couple of times before, and never as part of a group. The first thing I learned is that the pool tables suck. Two of them are so bad no one was using them; the owner of the place should just get rid of them to make more room for drinkers. The third table was usable and in use. The bar was way too hot and muggy despite having one side open onto the smoking patio. To the great outdoors I eventually repaired. Paul made a couple of attempts to set me up with women at the bar, a skill at which he far surpasses me. I wasn’t in the mood for that kind of stuff, though. I did get a laugh from one for my “Scotsman at a Baseball Game” joke.

I also ran into one of my favorite waitresses of all time, from back in the day. I didn’t recognize her right away out of the Callahan’s context; I just kept looking at her and wondering why she looked so familiar. Finally she recognized me. Tawny was there with some girlfriends and they were whooping it up. It was great to see her again. I had a thought as we talked that other people would be wondering what the two most attractive people in the bar were doing talking to me. I owe it all to regularization.

I don’t know how Amy and Paul wound up being so much drunker than I was. They must have been drinking faster back at the house. They were really starting to get on each other’s nerves, though, and it was harshing my mellow, to borrow a phrase from Halfsies, wherever he is. Amy had an unpleasant encounter with some other guy in the bar and we left in a hurry without telling Paul, who was off somewhere else. We walked back to Amy’s; it was a peaceful San Diego night and as we walked along the bay the fireworks were popping over Sea World. I breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the bar and into the quiet. Paul was waiting for us when we got back to Amy’s place. I was treated to an endless series of Paul needling Amy and Amy roaring back. Finally I went into the kitchen and turned up the music so I wouldn’t have to hear them bicker anymore.

Why can’t we all just get along?

Paul left soon after that, plenty pissed off. Things quieted down, and one uneaten grilled cheese sandwich cut into bite-sized morsels later, Amy was asleep and I had my peace, curled up with a cat on the short sofa.

Morning arrived gently, and after a shower it’s off to Sluka’s for me. I may be here a few more days if Amy needs me to housesit while she’s in Florida. I’d rather be on the road, though.

14 thoughts on “Open Bar

  1. No, Paul is not Cute Boy. I have been so diligent in staying tactfully out of the way when Cute Boy is on the horizon that I’ve never met him.

    Looks like I’m off the hook for house sitting as well.

    Vegas, ho!

  2. What a wonderfully dutiful relative Amy is, to drive across the continent to bring relief to beleaguered, thirsty family members. Just one question: Will her car make it?

    (Visualizing scene of Amy hitchhiking by the side of the road, next to a car whose wheel has fallen off, with a stack of cases of beer. Soundtrack in background: Julie Roberts’ “Break Down Here.”)

  3. Jer Jer-

    OPen Bar AKA Open Sore is the worst bar in PB someone should take it out back and put it out of it’s misery

    And does any one know how many cases of beer are you allowed to bring on a flight? I’ve already scarificed clean clothes for myself, only because I probably can’t shower when there…but beer you can never get enough!

    Aimes

  4. Open Sore? I thought that was an inside joke just tween me and my ne’er do well, swillin’ heineken on the sand in front of Lahaina’s pals. Oh, yes, Sucks it does. BRING BACK THE SECOND WIND! (or Stingers)

    My brother took 6 cases in his duffel bag to San Diego when he got out of basic training at NS-Great Lakes. HE couldn’t carry it. He had to drag it through the concourse.

  5. If you check the cases, each one counts as one piece of luggage. Depending on the airline, you can take either two or three (assuming you don’t check any other bags). Some airlines will allow additional “bags” for an additional fee.

  6. At last this is my last night for torturing Jer with staying up all night and drinking way too much….but whats way too much… it’s only a opinion

  7. However much you can fit into Winebaggo, that will count as one checked bag.

    It’s my turn now to do the staying up all night and drinking way too much with Jer — there’s still more than a week until I have to start back to work!

    (Actually, we did some of that on the sailing voyage as well.)

  8. Here’s the update… My home town is destroyed, but We were lucky our house is still standing thanks to the eight trees that were ripped out of the ground which we chopped up though some of my neighbors weren’t so lucky power is down will be for two more weeks thank god theres enough ice to keep Dad’s beer cold..oh yeah there is one bar open in town Portside they have generators running to keep the coolers going which is way more important then lights so everything is lit by candles oh yes nothing more romantic then staring at your beer in candle light drink me baby I’m yours!

    Aimes

  9. Interesting how disasters interact with human activities. There are people who experience only minimal damage, and others who lose everything. During the Cerro Grande Fire, my folks had to evacuate twice, once from their home, and again from the place they’d taken refuge. They showed up at the door at 3 a.m., and I remembered a quotation (I don’t remember where it came from): “Home is the place where, if you go there, they have to take you in.”

    What was amazing about the Cerro Grande Fire was that, while about 400 families lost homes, the damage could have been a lot greater.

    The other disaster I’ve dealth with was Hurricane Alicia, the first hurricane to inflict more than $1 billion in damages. We were living in Houston; Alicia blew in our front window and caused serious damage to the roof of our apartment building — damage that was never satisfactorily repaired. The bayou that ran around the apartment complex flooded, but since we were on the second floor, we didn’t get inundated.

    All in all, we lucked out, but there were a whole lot of people who were less lucky. Sounds like Amy’s family fell into the lucky category.

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