1457 I Like Bars

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I like bars. Not all bars, indiscriminately. I like the bars that feel relaxed and friendly, like they should have a potbelly stove in the middle, and pipe smoke. And perfection would be a faint whiff of manure from the soles of farmers' boots.

The Hurley Mountain Inn used to be like that, back before they redecorated and deemphasized the dart board and pool table, and got rid of all the taxidermy. Now it's too sterile. You feel like you have to wear go-to-meetin' clothes in there now.

No matter how long I'm in a bar, I rarely have more than one alcoholic drink. I can nurse a glass of wine for three hours. Mostly I drink iced tea or juice. I'm not there to drink. I'm there to listen.

Comfy bars are one of the few places where you can get some of the most amazing conversations going among total strangers, on the widest range of topics. You'd think coffee houses would work that way, too, they seem to have a reputation for it, but not in my experience. There's a kind of snootiness in a coffee house that you don't find in a country or neighborhood bar. Almost like conversation in a coffe house is of the showing off variety.

I think it has something to do with sitting at an actual bar, too, as opposed to tables. You're all together, no separation. Even better if the bar is "L" or "U" shaped.

"Sitting" is used loosely. I noticed that the two men I've spent the most time with in bars lately never actually sit on a bar stool. They lay claim to one, but then they stand next to or behind it, or rest one cheek against it, but they almost never sit. Every other guy at the bar is sitting, but they always stand. I wonder why? And why is it always the guy I'm with? I wonder if it's related to the "attracts bugs" thing (that all the men I've been most attracted to in my life were also excessively attractive to mosquitoes, blackflies, and gnats).

No, it's NOT the manure on their boots!
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