9/01/2007

One for the Record, Part 3

It isn't uncommon that I randomly imagine my demise, so I wasn't phased much. At this point it was around 11:30 p.m. and I was about one fourth of the way there.

I was nearing my old neighborhood so I decided to take a small detour to check out the house I lived in for six years. The house itself looked exactly the same, it was still tan with green shutters. The garage even still had the attached basketball hoop that seemed to be hanging by a thread the last time I was there. I moved in for a closer look but as I got the base of the driveway a spotlight came on so I decided it best to keep moving, especially since I could hear conversation across the street. As I walked, I imagined how funny it would be if they called the cops on me. I made a complete circle around the neighborhood back to main street attaching names of old friends to houses as I went. A little further down main street I noticed a small bar on the corner of a miniature one floor office building. Considering how I wasn't in any rush and in dire need of a drink, I decided to check the place out.

Not wanting to awkwardly roam around, I took the first stool I saw at the bar. It was indeed a small place. There were around 15 stools around the oval shaped bar which sort of hugged the wall on the right when you walked in. They had two small tv's hung up on the walls with major league baseball playing on both. On opposite sides of the room were a pool table and a jukebox. The pool table was closer to the bar while a small dining area of a couple booths and several tables accompanied the jukebox. There were about ten people there when I entered. Four people at the bar itself, three playing pool, and three standing near one of the tv's with beers in their hands watching the game. They were all guys except one. From where I was sitting I'd say their ages ranged from thirty to fifty. As I was looking at the closest tv trying to determine who was playing I heard a female ask me for an ID. I turned my head back to the bar and got my first look at the bartender. I suppose she was in her mid 30's. She had shoulder length blonde hair with that wet look to it, a pink t-shirt, and pretty night jeans. She wasn't too bad looking, although nothing spectacular. I rummaged through my pockets and pulled out my wallet. As soon as I opened it I remembered the cop had taken my license. I quickly explained my situation while shuffling through my wallet. I threw my student ID up on the counter hoping it had my date of birth on it while I continued my search. Library card, debit cards, insurance cards, nothing had my date of birth. I looked up at her and said I was sorry just after finishing my story. I pulled the movies out of my pocket to prove that at least part of my story was true, although not the important part. Looking up from my student ID, she asked me my first name. After my response, she held out her hand as to shake mine and as we shook she told me we shared the same name. "Nice to meet you, what can I get for you", was what she said next. I thanked her and asked for a Sam Adams.

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