I don’t like hearing about other people’s dreams. If your ever tempted to tell me about your dream that was so weird and meaningful to you, please remember most dreams are images your brain has decided to discard, but while doing that you attempt to link those images into a narrative. In other words, let me tell you my brain gibberish!
But that being said, let me tell you about this dream I had last night. A young, nerdy boy was nervous about losing his virginity, and he was revealing this to a female friend who proceeded to mock him by first doing a deep, sexy voice and saying:
“So, what position do you want to try?”
And then she switched to the boys voice and said:
My brain did that while I was sleeping! Now it is entirely possible that I stole that joke from somewhere. But for the moment I’m going to pretend that I am insanely hilarious while asleep.
I almost bailed on my buddy last night because of the weather, but he convinced me to get out of the house, and I’m very happy he did. Not to be a whiny suckybaby about it, but I have been realizing that my new job has me alone in my office a good portion of the time, and I don’t always seek to offset that by being social. So it was good to go through my three stages of being in a bar.
- Anxiety walking in. I always feel like I’m walking into a situation that everyone else in the entire bar already knows the ins and outs of and that I’m interrupting something. Imagine Tom Cruise having his mask removed in Eyes Wide Shut, and that’s pretty much the inside of my brain whenever I walk through any door. Luckily I’ve discovered the cure…
- Drinking. Me drinking has several subcategories.
- Loosening up. One drink in and the question in my mind is not what are we going to talk about but rather what aren’t we going to talk about?
- Talking louder. Because if I can’t hear me then you can’t hear me.
- Telling people I love them a little too casually. (I mean, I still want to see other people.)
- Talking louder still. I believe the word commonly used is yelling.
- Having trouble getting both my eyes to focus at the same time. I’m not winking at you. I know, I just said I love you again, but I’m not winking. These two things just don’t want to work as a team anymore, so I get a little Lucille Bluth thing going on. Which leads me to stage 3.
- Sleepiness. The loud talking stops and almost as suddenly as that liquid courage electrified my system it has retreated (I’m pretty sure to somewhere near my bladder). I go home, take an aspirin, drink a glass of water, and try to pass out before I begin sobering up and thinking of all the opinions I freely and loudly offered.
We were at the Harding Tavern, which I don’t get to enough despite my proximity to it. I pretty much stuck with Old Fashioneds for the night, and I was going to take a picture at some point, but, you know, best intentions before that first drink. So trust me, they were delightful. We also split the Mango Habanero wings, which were sweet, spicy and crisp, as good wings should be. And we split the THT Fries, which are their fries covered in cheese sauce, bacon, and some other things I can’t remember now, but those are the highlights.
Oh hey, looks like it’s past 5!
I love you guys.