Interesting night at the local watering hole

Some definitions for you:

‘Neck is my favorite abbreviation for the expression “Redneck”.

BOHICA: "Bend over, here it comes again".

Now, what’s interesting is that “local” here really means the next 5 town east, southeast and northeast of here, because apparently this is one of the only good places to get a drink and act a fool after work (check out mapquest again to see just how far Covington is away from Atlanta… I can’t stress this fact enough). Because it’s the local “watering hole” for so many nearby towns, you get a lot of interesting folks there.. including 'Necks.

Me? I didn’t feel like cooking, that’s the reason I was there for dinner. Aside from providing liquor, the place happens to be a fairly solid Italian Café, by Covington standards. I found out the guy sitting next to me worked at the local hospital where I had my birth-witnessing experience. Before that C-section, I told him, I saw another procedure where two docs were doing prostate surgery (performed near a man’s naughty bits and bunghole). I told the guy about an anesthesiologist who walked in, in the middle of the sugery, to ask the docs “how the BOHICA boys were doin’?”… it was him. I just didn’t remember the face. I told him my story of going to Rhode Island, leaving Rhode Island and possibly going back to Rhode Island to be with my lady, part of which goes like this:

I’m a Senior at Brown in Biomedical Engineering in 2001. Midway through the year, my girlfriend asks me WTF I’m gonna do with my life, as in, she needs to know for us to go on. Scary shit. I decide I’m not ready for working life or a PhD, so I get a Masters. Then I graduate from the Masters in Biomed. Engin, part of a strengthened relationship due to my decisiveness, a little wiser than before, but not yet employed.

I go to a charity dinner with a friend and make an unlikely networking contact that lands my resume in the hands of a very powerful, sharp corporate CEO. He hands that resume off to his Rhode Island and Georgia Divisions. The RI division has nothing; the GA division has two possible jobs. I get an offer for one. I turn down a lab tech position at RI Hospital on the advisement of my girlfriend: the one who loves me to death and I have spent almost every day with for five years is the one who supports my leaving for the sake of my career. She stays strong and sheds not one tear as my dad and I pull the U-Haul away. She told me later on those tears would come, as they did for me. I come to Georgia and begin my career.

Now you all know me a little better. Back to the bar:

My bar friend hears the extra brief version of this and also how I may be headed back (you’ll get that one later). This 50-odd year doctor happens to be a huge Alanis Morrisette Fan, and a world traveler. He loves music; he used to keep burned copies of his CDs in the car til he got an Ipod; then he gave all the CDs to the bartener, Seth. I’m talking music and medicine and life and drinks with Seth and the Anesthesiologist for hours, because I’m stuck at the bar. Why am I stuck at the bar? Seth’s generousity:

6:20 pm* Newcastle draft at Happy Hour price
6:30 I order another Newcastle at H. H. price but I ask Seth to bring it along in ten minutes
6:35 Seth brings me his favorite shot, a “Sex with an Alligator”. Tasty.
6:45 Seth lets me try Terrapin draft. I change my mind and get a Terrapin instead of a Newcastle as my second and last beer.
7:00 We are talking drinks, specifically the Mind Eraser, when Seth brings me and the anesthesiologist each one, that we drink.
7:15 I tell him the one he gave is different than the one I know. He makes the one I know and no one is “available” to drink it but me.
7:30 Drunk. Drunk-dialed girlfriend and a friend.
8:00 Drunk as a Skunk. (The mind-eraser takes time to hit me, as it should).

*All times approximate due to the alchohol

I decide to get the phone number for a cab just in case. Two of my favorite quotes about drinking and driving:

1. A cab’s always cheaper than a DUI
2. “But officer, I thought about taking a cab!” (© Drunk ‘Neck guy mentioned below)

From 9-10:30, I hang out and play electronic bar trivia games with an accountant for a rope-making company (!?!?!!?!?!?!) and Seth’s wife. Most bar trivia machines show naked ladies once it gets a little late, FYI. I’m ready to go by 10:30, finally just sober enough to drive the 2 miles to my place. By then there are some ‘Necks who’ve been there since before I got there and are borderline-raucous (as in showing their underwear to the server). Seth makes their last Yager-bombs with slightly smaller Yager shots than the previous ones, another sign of a good bartender in my eyes. I say my goodbyes and make it home in time to blog before bed.

I have a bittersweet feeling about random meetings with cool people. Every good bar in the world has that group of people that know each other by name and will welcome you in as if they knew you forever. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t even need to be a bar. A coffee shop, a library, whatever, it’s the healthy mingling of a gathering place with people who are truly welcoming. You can get that feeling with people you will never see again in your life. What’s more, there are millions of those interactions that you’ll never even touch. Those are the two facts of life that make it so bittersweet to me. So much good in the world that will be untapped. But at the least, it means you can never run out. There’s always new places to find where you can leave your predispositions and worries behind over a drink (or five) a book, a mocha-foam latte thingy or whatever’s your pleasure.