It is a weekend plus some without the boyfriend. His brother’s bachelor party calls him to Vegas. Hard working men in need of that Vegas atmosphere I am sure.
As for me, I went out tonight on a Thursday night for the first time by myself in I don’t know how long. Something I enjoy doing, but have not done in quite some time.
Let me tell you how it went:
I looked up my two favorite things to do, near me:
Powell’s book readings
Al’s Den music
After researching both artists, I decided both would be the ideal plan but leaned towards the book reading more.
The author was Nate Dern
, a news editor at Funny or Die
, reading from his first book, “Not Quite a Genuis”.
So hilarious. He seems like an amazing, funny, successful dude. Check him out.
Prior to, I visited the best happy hour I have come to find in my neck of the woods;
$3 glasses of wine at generous pours. The last time I went in for this happy hour, which was my first time, I was served by an amazing, punkish looking bartender who knew what the fuck he was doing. So of course I went back, considering it is right across the street from the bookstore where the reading took place. The same bartender was not on duty, as I had assumed. But, an older looking gentleman with an Oregonian beard took care of me who, unfortunately and fortunately, had the white wine keg blasted on him, in which he gave me two glasses of wine for the price of $2.50.
In the transition from my first glass to the second, he looked at me and shared, “You are the utmost beautiful person I have ever had the pleasure of serving in my bar.”
I don’t know if it is actually his bar, but I blushed a bit of course, said thank you and told him I was happy to be in “his” bar.
It’s funny, at least to me, because I pace in the apartment and tell myself I don’t need to go out. But I know I want to go out, I know it will be ok if I go out, it will be a good time for myself. I contemplate the alternative of TV, reading, writing, etc. But, I like getting ready and deciding for myself what the plan is for the night. No one to text or communicate with but myself.
I was not expecting a free glass of wine, I was not expecting such a precious, unforgetting compliment from a bartender, and I was not expecting to write a blog post about the night. But here we are.