Its Friday! You’re done with work, it’s been a hell of a week, and all you want to do is go where everyone knows your name, Or just some of the people.
I have always loved what people call “Dive Bars”, I use to frequent one in college, I don’t have a problem I swear, officer. It was right down the street from my school; I truly loved the people that I got to know in that bar and who got to know me. From the owner and his Buddy Holly lookin’ glasses, to the bartender that I originally hit on, that shot me down, who later became one of my closest friends. There were plenty of interesting characters that I met in that bar. Most of the time I didn’t go there for the drinks, I went there for conversation and make people laugh.
A real dive bar is like walking into a warn down cottage that’s been beaten by the elements. You walk in from the icy cold world, where you’ve been shaken and are about ready to crack from the crap that you went through that week. But as soon as those doors open and you feel the warmth of the heater by the door and you smell the scent of stale cigarettes, even though no one is smoking, the tension in your shoulders relaxes and your upper body hugs the bar as your voice breaks-out “stout please.”
You see, I wanted to paint that image for a reason. A dive bar, to me, isn’t just another ratty looking bar. When I say “Dive Bar” it is kind of like the old barbershops back in the day. Regulars come in, they talk about their day, their lives. The bartender listens, gets to know the regulars in their bar, what their lives are like, how the regulars see themselves, how they see the world. Dive bars, true dive bars, are ones with a kind of soul in them. A person can feel at home in them.
I was never one for the “party scene”, I loath crowds, but I have always wanted to be a stand up comic. There is nothing more powerful than having the ability to make someone forget their lives for a few minutes and make them smile. Because I dislike large crowds and I have a bad case of stage fright, I use the dive bars as my stage, No, I don’t stand up on the actual bar…I use the stool. Whether the patrons actually enjoyed my jokes or they were just humoring me, I will never really know.
Moral of the story here kids, is that the best place to be on a Friday night is not a dive bar, but anywhere that you’re with close friends making each other laugh and just being yourself. It really is just that simple.
If you chose to stay home and drink might I recommend a shower beer?
Oh! and if you are going to drink please do so responsibly, don’t drink and drive and don’t let your friends drink and drive. Enjoy your weekend.