Hiding out

I have a thing for dingy, dark, hole-in-the-wall pubs.

Tucked into a vinyl-covered chair with a giant cup of beer (after the waitress asks for my ID and giggles, "sorry, you look much younger than you are!"), people watching. Soaking in the mementos on the walls, the histories of people before me. Being called "sweetie, honey, baby" by aforementioned waitress as she attempts to coax out my life story.

Sometimes you just need to find a small place where it seems like you're light years out of the city, away from work and life's cares and concerns.

It almost makes being stood up for my meeting worth it. Well not so much stood up. Technically, everyone was just a hearty fifteen minutes late.