Dear Miss Littleheart:
Why do people go to bars?
Curiously,
Sober
Dearest Sober:
How curious. The question should be “why WOULDN’T they go to bars?” Oh sure, there are some groups of people that shouldn’t go to bars for obvious reasons (alcoholics, children, Hasselhoff, the deeply religious, and criminals). If you’re any of those, stop reading this immediately and go play on the Xbox or pray. I MEAN IT. But for everyone else, the bar is your oyster. I think. I know at some bars you can get oysters. Whatever.
Bars are fun. There, I said it. They’re fun for the drinks, fun for the people watching, and fun for the conversations. Like anything, sometimes too much of a good thing is actually a bad thing. For example, one time I was down at my favorite place enjoying the sweet, sweet nectar of a quadruple whiskey with exactly one ice cube, when I might have had just a little too much (however, in my defense, there was a terrible stomach bug going around and everyone knows I can hold my booze better than a Russian sailor as it’s a proven fact). Sooooo when the ex and his new skank just happened to stop by MY FAVORITE BAR and he KNEW IT, I may have accidentally had a tiny little episode that could have involved buffalo wings, a white coat, and some projectile vomiting. I’m not going to go into it now, because the lawsuit is still pending, but I will send an encrypted message to the skank directly. Use YXO NEALC. Don’t unscramble that, as it was for the skank only, or you will become a material witness at the trial.
So if you’re of age and are so inclined, you should put on your hottest outfit, round up some of your friends, spritz on some Axe or Glow by JLo, and head down to the nearest watering hole. Everybody doesn’t need to know your name, but it’s nice if the bartender knows your favorite drink. I should know.
