I just came back from 90 West, a bar approximately 450 feet from my apartment. Why do I live 450 feet from a bar you may ask? Exactly.
But I did hear something that astounded me when I was at the bar a few minutes ago. First off, this bar is small and quaint, but has a very loyal following. It's kind of like the Moe's from The Simpsons. Same 8 people there. Same smell of skunked beer and arm pit. Oh, and this one dude, Chris (complete Type A personality, firm handshake, loud, probably obnoxious, my guess works in sales or retails douche bags as a side project) goes, "this beer tastes like ass." Ha Ha...how does that dude know what ass tastes like?* Probably the same guy who says, "lick my balls, faggot!" Contradiction of terms, possibly?
Anywho, so the female bartender (who'd I'd definitely bone) starts talking about why they don't serve hard liquor. Her theory was that they don't serve hard alcohol because it would start turf wars between bars. Basically, liquor gets you sicker. And if someone such as myself who is new to the bar shows up after a rowdy 90 West crowd is 8 shots-a-patron deep, I'd get my ass kicked.
Apparently, territory and turf isn't specific to just gangs out here. I don't get that. If the bartender's theory has any truth to it, I think it speaks to a greater truth about ourselves. A truth that is full of individualism. A truth that leads to ego, and eventually, to comments like, "this beer tastes like ass."
But there is another truth out there I think. A truth about our desire to help. A desire to see the parts work together for a greater whole. Just as negative begets negative, I believe the opposite is certainly true. I know the opposite is true in fact. Everytime somebody tells me they read this thing, I'm inspired more and more. We're designed to work and live and play and yes, fornicate, together.
*it tastes like maple syrup
No comments:
Post a Comment