last night was a lot of fun.
there’s nothing better, for me anyway, than live music AND not having to leave the block to hear it.
granted, the venue’s is really the most divey-ist dive bar around, but it has it’s charm and the place is cheap and everyone in the place is generally pretty nice to everyone, so it was a cool sunday evening hang.
i was there to see a friend of a friend, who was very talented and despite the bar’s noticeably horrible acoustics managed to convey a very learned voice and some strong chops on the guitar.
the bartender was the second drunkest person in the bar.
the drunkest person in the bar was sitting a few feet from the group i sat with, talking loudly and occasionally providing for some pretty entertaining antics. at one point he had two glasses of straight jameson in front of him as well as a beer, when he spilled the beer and proceeded to ‘clean’ it up by covering the spill with coasters. at one point he yelled out, “who won the golden globe for best actor in 1947??!!!” for no reason. no one answered him.
all night, in the bar’s fishtank, a little golden fish swam back and forth from wall to wall with a sense of urgency that i just couldn’t figure. was it that this little guy had lost his mind? was i witnessing a daily workout?
in the end i simply came to the conclusion that life as a fish generally sucks.