He drinks a whiskey drink
He drinks a vodka drink
He drinks a lager drink
He drinks a cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him
Of the better times
–Tubthumping/Chumbawamba
I’ve spent a fair amount of time in bars over the years, but I’ve never been a barfly, really. I might have been if I were a man. It’s hard for women to spend the required amount of time sitting alone in bars to qualify. Well, that’s not quite true. It’s just that if you’re even moderately attractive, you get hit on pretty constantly if you’re alone in a bar. I hear. So if you don’t mind that, it could work. Maybe if you’re a real barfly, going home with a fellow barfly is part of the code. I don’t know. Like I said, I haven’t ever been a real barfly.
To qualify as a barfly, it seems like there has to be a not only a certain amount of time spent alone in a bar, but also a certain level of heaviness to the drinking. Not just the quantity of the booze consumed, but in the intensity. It can’t all be light recreational bar time. The fun bar time, just there for a pint or two with friends. Or even getting good and hammered with friends. There has to be some dedication. Some desperation. Being a generally cheerful person, I don’t think I am equipped for it. I’m not damaged enough. Or maybe I just can’t accept the necessary amount of physical and mental degradation required. I hate a hangover, for one thing. And I personally vain enough that I don’t like that I look like I’m 87 on the day after a huge bender.
So, I’ll never be a barfly. Knock on wood.
Still, I am more than a little fond of bars.
One of the things I like most is going out with a girlfriend for food and drinks. With a good friend, and enough drinks, a bar is like a confessional. You get all the good stuff out. Or is that all the bad stuff? For a secret keeper like me, that’s important. Some of us need a little more encouragement than others to be candid about the realm of the personal and obviously alcohol does loosen the tongue (in several ways) for most of us.
In a lot of bars, even the environment is like a confessional. Lots of well worn wood. Dim lighting.
Then, there’s the whole bottle aesthetic itself. Bottles are beautiful to look at. They have a pleasing shape. Whiskey and rum are a great amber color. Red wine has that whole blood red thing going on. The glass reflects the light nicely.
When you’re out with just a friend, you don’t have to filter things out that a guy would get all squicky about. You don’t have to worry about behaving any certain way. I would guess that women are a lot more candid in their discussions than men are. Of course, I’ve never been a man. You men will have to let me know what you think about that. Women talk about everything. Everything. Men would be appalled. If your wife or girlfriend has at least one close friend, believe me: that friend knows about pretty much all of your kinks and how good you are at them. There are things we don’t share out of loyalty, but women are raunchy. At least the women I know are.
Maybe you aren’t as lucky as I am.
You probably aren’t.
We should have a drink and talk about it.
Cheers!