Shortly after posting yesterday, I waited around for one of my favorite bars in LA to open up. As soon as seven o' clock came around, I grabbed a track jacket and made the trek.
The R Bar. In the middle of nowhere, yet within walking distance. They only let you in if you know the password of the night. The eye slot opens up like a speakeasy.
"What is the name of Johnny's karate team in The Karate Kid?"
"Cobra Kai."
I'm not quite sure where it comes from, but there are days when you just feel like being alone and grabbing a drink. Mostly when I have a lot on my mind. Things to mull over.
The R Bar is a diamond in the rough for a place like Los Angeles. The decor looks like the innards of some forgotten pirate ship. A great jukebox that plays The Decemberists and Weezer's Pinkerton.
It was only seven, so I grabbed some bar stool and start chit chatting with my new friend behind the bar.
Bartender: What'll it be, sweetheart?
So@24: Rum and coke please.
Bartender: I hope you're prepared for those the rest of the night. -wink-
Homegirl pours one of the stiffest drinks I've ever laid my lips on. My rum and coke looked like a watered down ice tea. Excellent!
I sat for a good while sipping my flame-inducing beverage. Alone with my thoughts. Just thinking about shit, you know?
I eventually pull out my cellphone and ask Beth a question that's been gnawing at my brains:
So@24's text: Why did you text me at 2:00 am last night asking me if I was "hooking up" with someone? Surely you jest.
Minutes later (which seem like hours) my phone vibrates on the bar.
Beth's text: I got really panicky for a second. You know how my mind works.
So@24's text: Something had to trigger that. You never worried/cared before.
Beth's text: If you're going to do it. Get it out while you still can.
It's not surprising that my quest to get answers from her left me with more confused with even more questions. I order another. I tell Bartender I'm going to make her a Decemberists mix the next time I come in.
It's kicking in.
I get a text from Leo a short while later.
Leo's text: Where are you?
So@24's text: R Bar. It's just me though so don't worry about it.
Leo's text: What the fuck!? Are you okay? I'm on my way.
Leo walks through the door and saddles up next to me. We shoot the shit for a little while before we both decide to grab some grub ("my treat", I slur). I haven't eaten anything all day and the rum is making my head spin. When I go to close out, I discover that Leo had put all my drinks on his tab when I was in the bathroom.
Damn. That's a good friend. He must have picked up on something. He's pretty good about that.
** Oh snaps! Look who got nominated for a blogging award!
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Now playing: Decemberists - Eli, The Barrow Boy
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Monday, January 21, 2008
I Have a Holden Caulfield Night
Posted by
gulalalit
Labels:
Beth,
emo shit,
I'm a drunk bastard,
Leo