Years ago I ducked in there for a beer on an ugly, scorching summer night with my visiting nephew from Arizona. I am not the host I know some to be. I'm terrible at it in fact but wanted to show off this old neighborhood with history and beauty. Another person would site see around Manhattan and start with the basics, like a Broadway show or the Village. Instead, I made him take the subway to my apartment and dragged him walking up and down the Brownstoned streets of Fort Greene at night and eventually right before the humidity almost killed us both, I thought it would be charming to have a beer at my corner bar, that I never went to because I stopped drinking years before that. Not one person was in the bar, nor were they in the back room where I've seen dancing and all kinds of fun ensuing, as I've walked by multiple times through the years. We got our beers and yelled our conversation as the colored lights strobed across our bodies and the loud music felt so unnecessary. Eventually the bartender asked the waiter to come and tell me to take my shoes off the table. The table that was as low as a foot stool, so I thought nothing of resting just the rubber sole tips of my sneakers on the edge. I felt so humiliated and it was a bummer because I wanted my nephew to see what a cool place Brooklyn was, especially my area. The Mexican restaurant we ate at had no air conditioning and the food was also having an off night. Come to think of it, that whole visit was a complete bust. At the time I did try my best, it's just that my best was absolute shite. I can only own it now. It's not like I got any better.
Its funny the dumb, disappointing memories you keep as if they'll ever make you feel anything but inadequate and lame.
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Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?