Day 49 | Survived the Visit to the Bar| Throw the Shrimp Cocktail to the Cats
I lost interest in playing Observer.
It was watching a middle-aged guy drink a cosmo that ended my little game.
No male, in my book, should drink anything that’s pink.
Red-faced pseudo-identify jeered in my ear. He was having a ball, dangling and doing acrobats around my hoop earring. Jabbing me with his prongs. “Hear that ice in the shaker, next one’s for you, baby.”
No, it’ fucking not, Chooch.
Ya know what else helped?
Service was terribly slow and the lights over the bar were burning way too bright. If I had been drinking, I would have been elbowing patrons, pounding my fist against the bar, demanding another.
Hey! ‘Nother drink! And turn down these goddamn lights!
Is it a coincidence that I’m reading Neil Sheehan’s A Bright Shining Lie: John Paul Vann and America in Vietnam?
‘Cause I see it clearly.
The bar is a bright shining lie.
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