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The bar


Huge Gelatinous Blob
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I am at the only bar within walking distance of my parent's house, it is a dive bar. 

As such, it should have young people here but it doesn't.  Lots of people my age, and all a lot fatter than me. Most are wearing t-shirts.  Virginia vs. Boise State is on all the tv's, college football played on a bright blue field.  

T-shirt guys seem to be having fun, probably comparing beards and body odors.  Two couples sitting across the u-shaped bar from me barely acknowledge each other's presence.  

The female part of one of the couples is dressed festively and is wearing makeup that exceeds the standards of the bar. She is hoping for more from her taciturn spouse, who prefers to stare straight ahead. She will add this night to the many little disappointments of her adult life, maybe remembering this one in particular when she is 82 years old and wonders why she didn't leave him when she was still bangable. 

Afroman's "Because I Got High" comes on the jukebox, eliciting smiles from the knowing.  Overly-festive lady is one, and danced in her chair for just a moment until she remembered her company. 

"Jack and Dianne" now as the other quietly desperate couple eat wings without speaking. It looks like they are drinking classic cocktails like 7 & 7's and Jack n' cokes to go with the song. Gastroexploration is their game, Ohio's Vasco de Gama and wife, it seems. 

Mostly old guys here as the first of the young ladies arrive and rightfully seat themselves away from the unwashed masses.  "Pour Some Sugar On Me" plays, a little louder than the previous songs. 

"Born in the USA" now plays as the bartenders in the corner yell loudly to one another, too loudly.  We can hear you. 

They are all a bit heavier than the should be.  Either lots of makeup or no makeup, care too much or not at all. One has pendulous breasts, another has a tattoo on the back of her neck, text that is too small to read. I am looking at the pendulous breasts. 

The beer is cheap and cold, but not Vienna Inn cold. It is draft for me, but many tables have bottles on the table that no one is collecting. 

Both of the women of the quiet couples are no longer there and have probably gone to the restroom to cry. The guys continue to show no interest in their surroundings as a country song destroys the mood of the place. 

Time to go home. 

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It almost sounds like "Otto's" that I visited in the town at the end of the bike trail except Otto's had more interesting people. I would have liked to have spent more time there but it was my turn around point and I still had 28 miles to pedal. As it was I didn't get home in time to make dinner.

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14 minutes ago, Penerope said:

I am at the only bar within walking distance of my parent's house, it is a dive bar. 

As such, it should have young people here but it doesn't.  Lots of people my age, and all a lot fatter than me. Most are wearing t-shirts.  Virginia vs. Boise State is on all the tv's, college football played on a bright blue field.  

T-shirt guys seem to be having fun, probably comparing beards and body odors.  Two couples sitting across the u-shaped bar from me barely acknowledge each other's presence.  

The female part of one of the couples is dressed festively and is wearing makeup that exceeds the standards of the bar. She is hoping for more from her taciturn spouse, who prefers to stare straight ahead. She will add this night to the many little disappointments of her adult life, maybe remembering this one in particular when she is 82 years old and wonders why she didn't leave him when she was still bangable. 

Afroman's "Because I Got High" comes on the jukebox, eliciting smiles from the knowing.  Overly-festive lady is one, and danced in her chair for just a moment until she remembered her company. 

"Jack and Dianne" now as the other quietly desperate couple eat wings without speaking. It looks like they are drinking classic cocktails like 7 & 7's and Jack n' cokes to go with the song. Gastroexploration is their game, Ohio's Vasco de Gama and wife, it seems. 

Mostly old guys here as the first of the young ladies arrive and rightfully seat themselves away from the unwashed masses.  "Pour Some Sugar On Me" plays, a little louder than the previous songs. 

"Born in the USA" now plays as the bartenders in the corner yell loudly to one another, too loudly.  We can hear you. 

They are all a bit heavier than the should be.  Either lots of makeup or no makeup, care too much or not at all. One has pendulous breasts, another has a tattoo on the back of her neck, text that is too small to read. I am looking at the pendulous breasts. 

The beer is cheap and cold, but not Vienna Inn cold. It is draft for me, but many tables have bottles on the table that no one is collecting. 

Both of the women of the quiet couples are no longer there and have probably gone to the restroom to cry. The guys continue to show no interest in their surroundings as a country song destroys the mood of the place. 

Time to go home. 

Why the fuck aren't you writing for a living ?

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2 hours ago, AirwickWithCheese said:

After reading this, I can no longer say I've never been to a bar. 

You are the Cafe's Kingsley Amis.   

You and I will dig up Kingsley's corpse and go chat up conservatively-dressed women at a proper Victorian pub in the countryside. We can invite them to see our etchings, and they would certainly agree.  

We could later offer to trade our captives with Square Wheels, as RFW could benefit from a change of scenery. 

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Sociologists must spend a lot of time in dive bars. (If they don’t, they probably should). I don’t think anywhere else gives as much insight into the human condition. People in their natural state. (Even when they’re putting on, for the sake of others, there’s something to be learned from observing this).

This one seems to be a study in banality. Ordinary, stale and unexceptional. Bleak.

My experience in such places seems to be the opposite. Maybe it’s because the clientele is more transitory in this one?

The dive bars I’ve been in seem to be testaments to perseverance in the face of adversity. Humor seems to be the means of coping. Bitter, gallows humor, to be sure, but humor nonetheless. Maybe it’s because the bars I’ve been in have their regulars and the cast and crew are more familiar to me.

Some of the funniest bits of spontaneity I’ve heard have been in dive bars:

Once, while eating lunch in a local watering hole and watching the news, the old Dodge truck commercial came on - the one where, as the announcer walks toward the camera, extolling the virtues of the new truck, they drop one from out of frame, behind him. It slams down, in emphasis. Down the bar from me, one guy points to the screen and says “I bought that truck!

Local working guys lined the bar one afternoon, after work and one of the guys hollers down to the head of the DPW: “Hey! Ricky! When you gonna come and get those branches in front of my house?” The response from the other end of the bar was immediate: “Burn ‘em. I don’t want to get out of the truck”.

Someone was once commenting about how our local family of fish-poaching, deer jacking ne’er do wells have moved up the social ladder (a little) from their beginnings in the local trailer park - “You can take the Cesarios out of West Ave, but you can never take the West Ave out of the Cesarios...” “Yeah, and you can never get the deer out of their cellar, either” came back, drily, from someone else.

I don’t think I’ve ever observed moments like that in a more upscale bar. There there seems to be a more businesslike atmosphere. You’re there for a purpose - to socialize within strict guidelines. To be seen. To make an impression. It’s all very sterile, with an undertone of desperation.

Yeah, I’ve witnessed fights, marital discord and empty overnight relationships forming, but I’ll take the real atmosphere of a dive bar over any upscale bar, anytime. 

Besides, they don’t have pickled eggs at fancy bars, so fuck ‘em.

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1 hour ago, F_in Ray Of Sunshine said:

Sociologists must spend a lot of time in dive bars. (If they don’t, they probably should).

My university degree is in Sociology, so basically I have a licence to invent words.  One of my fourth year study projects was on dive bars in our local area, basically sitting and doing what RG just did.  It was really interesting.  I am still a big fan of people watching.

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3 hours ago, F_in Ray Of Sunshine said:

This one seems to be a study in banality. Ordinary, stale and unexceptional. Bleak.

My experience in such places seems to be the opposite. Maybe it’s because the clientele is more transitory in this one?

I like dive bars, this one was weird.  In an odd spot, just locals.  It is for people with little imagination who will not venture beyond 5 miles of their homes for anything.  "What should we do, it is Friday?"  "I dunno, television?"  "We do that every night!"  "Ok, the dive bar a mile from home?  I am not going anywhere else on Friday, all the idiots are out".

Admittedly, it was an odd time.  Probably most of the regulars don't want to come out on Friday, when the amateurs finally exit their homes and don't know how to act.  It was also before the younger crowd will want to go there, probably preferring to wait out the amateurs, too.

I am glad this bar is there, though, it is a mid-point for a few mile walk I can do.

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