It’s just awful. I eavesdrop on conversations when I’m sitting at a bar. I can’t help it. Sometimes a certain topic makes my ears tune right in—except of course, if they’re talking about sports. Madelene will always be right in the midst of telling me a story---and then she notices my eyes have that ~not paying attention to you~ glaze.
“Oh nothing.” I say—hoping that Madelene will forget that I missed the entire story she just told me. Of course she’ll turn around to see what’s going on, to see what I’m really tuning into.
So here’s last night’s eavesdrop story…
Meet 'Dick' and 'Jane'. Dick invited this lovely girl out for a drink. It was obvious these two had a history together. Dick was begging Jane to come back to him. Dick broke up with Jane after five years for another girl. (Boooooooooo!) After eight fun months of frolicking with another woman, Dick realizes that Jane is a better catch. Jane starts crying hysterically. She tries to hide her tears behind the beer taps.
“Why do you bring me out to a bar and do this? Couldn’t we have just grabbed a table?” Jane asks, as she wipes her tears away from her face.
“I love you, Jane. I realized that there’ll be only one person for me—the only one who has my heart---and that’s you.”
“I can’t believe you, Dick! You’ve lied to me way too many times. How am I supposed to trust what you say now?”
“I’ll be right back.” Dick says, as he steps away from the bar to use the little boy’s room.
“Are you okay?” I asked Jane, as I handed her a tissue.
“Yeah. I don’t know why he needs to do this in public. Every time his cell phone rings—it’s his girlfriend. How can I believe that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore?”
“I’m sorry. Well, he lost a good thing. We’ll definitely let him know that. This is my partner Madelene.” I said, scheming up a funny scenario. We started joking around with her and we bought her a drink. When Dick came back, he saw that we were laughing.
“Whaddya’ all laughing at?” He asks, as he sits back down on his stool.
“Oh nothing.” Jane says, as she lets out one more giggle.
"Not for nuttin’, but your girlfriend is just gorgeous! No disrespect or anything, but from a lesbian’s point of view, you are extremely lucky.”
“Errr…thanks….” Dick replies, as he looks at Jane suspiciously.
“I think she’s hitting on you.” He suggests to Jane. Jane just sat there and giggled the entire time, because she knew that we thought Dick was…well…a dick.
We have no idea why anyone would think Dick is a dick. Dick wants to have his cake and eat it too. Apparently, the cake he chose went bad, and he wants his little cupcake back. Poor Dick—so misunderstood. It’s no wonder some straight girls turn into full-fledged lesbians. Men like him, give ‘good guys’ a bad name. Sorry Jane. I hope you feel better and you meet a man who’s going to treat you well.
Okay, meet Paulie. He's gorgeous--I even have to admit! He’s better than my pharmacist. He’s great to talk to, and he knows my medication. All the ladies love this guy. And why wouldn't they? Just look at him. Now, I’ve been coming to this bar since I was one year old. No, it’s true. The owners even remember when my parents would take me there. They dressed me up in this awful yellow bonnet and flowery dress. My reputation there was forever ruined. The outfits my mother prepared for me were hideous to say the least. How could I ever show my face there again?
Well, after thirty-one years, I’m still going there--however, I have a much better sense of style. (I think...Anything's better than that awful yellow bonnet!) Memories at this bar have been sketched in the files of my mind forever. It’s also a restaurant as well. In the summer, this place becomes a lively outside bar with volleyball courts in the back and entertainment all year round. Sometimes they even have two to three bands playing at once—in different sections.
The scariest time I remember at this place, is when there was a tornado watch. My friend and I didn’t think much of it, because tornados usually don’t hit New York too bad. We live outside of the city, so it wasn’t a major concern. We sat outside enjoying our drinks after work. It was 5pm, and the sun gave off an orange hue—and the atmosphere was turning yellow. I felt as though I had one of those Blueblocker sunglasses on. I started to get nervous, because everything went still. The radio blared this long beep to alert their audience. They announced that we were under a tornado warning, and the very next town over from us got hit already. Then we saw the black clouds coming in—fast!
“Everyone! Come with me!” The bartender said, as he lifted up a flap that led into a basement. It was an actual bomb shelter built years ago. The bar wasn’t that packed. About twenty people filled up the basement. We heard the winds gust outside and felt the rumbles of chairs and other things knocking around above our heads. I was scared, holding my friend’s arm tightly. It took all of five minutes, and then it was calm again.
When we climbed back up, the sun was out, and it was a beautiful day again. There was no electric. Trees were knocked down, chairs from the outside bar were tossed around the parking lot, and leaves everywhere. Funny how a tornado can whip through a town within five minutes with this fierce weather—and then leaves you back to your beautiful day again.
There were many good times held at this place, and many other times that left me with questions. I experienced a lot in this little bar and grill. I had a few dates here, and met a few people that are still in my life today. I laughed, cried, fought, flirted, danced, played volleyball, kissed, listened to live music, drank my butt off, and enjoyed spending time with my family and loved ones at this little bar.
They say you never forget your first.
To tell you the truth, I have yet to figure this one out. As New York's numbers in cases and mortality declines, the south is seeing a...
The other day, I was reading what a fellow blogger, Ricardo was going through. He explained that he’s experiencing a lot of stress in his l...
Every father should remember that one day his son will follow his example instead of his advice. Up in Monroe, NY in a community called ...