StinkyJ was in town on bidness this week, and since his bidness is closely related to my bidness (working for the same division of the same The Company and all), that means he was actually in the same building as I during work hours. Just like olde times.
Now, for some inexplicable reason, The Mrs. seemed to not mind if I went out and had a beers with StinkyJ three nights in a row. Those of you who actually know me know that this is a remarkable change of circumstances, as The Mrs. does not normally allow me to go out for a beers more than once a week. I guess the whole "an old friend in town" angle softened her up.
She must miss her old friends.
Interestingly, I don't think StinkyJ and I have ever gone out for a beers at night if one or both of us were not traveling. In the 11 years we worked in the same location, I think the only times we ever went out at night for a beers was when we were both traveling to Fort TomCollins on bidness. Now, I'm excluding those trips to the cantina that occur right at quitting time, cuz they don't require any kind of thought or planning, and if you do them right, your spouse doesn't even have to pre-approve. I'm talking about leave work, go home, eat dinner, then go out for beers.
But, I mentioned to The Mrs. that StinkyJ was going to be in town, and that maybe we'd go grab a beers, and she approved it without even any cajoling. Then again the next night. Then, of course, it was Thursday night, which means Fat Camp and no special approval is required.
So, you know, trying to be a good host, I picked him up at his hotel and we went to my favorite hang out. As luck would have it, the one bar waitress in all of Fort TomCollins who remembers me and what I drink was working, and so I got to look like I was the kind of guy that is recognized by the bar staff, which implies better service.
If, by better service, you mean that when you order the last round, the waitress drops off your beers and says, "I'll take care of this round for you," and then you're drinking free beers. No better way to impress an out-of-town colleague than to take him to a bar where the waitress not only remembers what you drink, but even comp's you a round.
Unless, of course, your out-of-town colleague secretly assumes you're a drunkard and this just serves to solidify that impression. But I don't think StinkyJ secretly assumes I'm a drunkard. Not after I showed him my bar with the big "Bar Signs" poster from dunkard.com, at least.
Not wanting to disrupt the mojo, we went back again the next night. The waitress that doesn't remember me was there, and there were no free drinks. She even insisted I provide her a credit card to run a tab for the night. Our good friend waitress was there, too, but as a patron. As was the one waitress that kinda knows me at the other bar we frequent during Fat Camp, also as a patron.
That's right. My favorite watering hole also happens to be the bar that all the barmaids hang out in when they're not working. I didn't actually know that before. But now that I do, I like the place even more. Free peanuts, never a cover. What's not to like?
StinkyJ dropped by for dinner yesterday to see the fambly and the new homestead. He had printed up for HannahC a certificate that inducted her into the Order of Fishermen as of the date she caught her first fish, which he read about here on Me, CherkyB. She was quite happy with that. I figured something was up when he had nonchalantly asked me what her middle name was during an IM conversation a few days ago.
So, anyways, after two nights out having a beers with StinkyJ, and then a well-attended Fat Camp (StinkyJ is quite a draw), when I got an email at about 2:00 today saying that there was a happy hour at 4:00, I just kinda stared at it. Then, ten minutes later, another email announcing the same event. And, much as I am embarrassed to say this, I just didn't want to go. I didn't feel like more beers. Or gin. Or even Jack'n'Coke. I just felt like going home.
I'm not even 40.