| Subject: |
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Re: Re: Some worthy goals |
| Name: |
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Tom |
| Date Posted: |
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Jun 26, 08 - 6:34 PM |
| Website: |
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http://www.idahostatesman.com/opinion/story/423553.html |
| Message: |
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My first time included not one bar but four, plus a church, all in one bleary night in Georgetown.
The first time featured us spread eagle against a Paddy wagon. We were almost thrown into the hoosgow for the night when the drunk brick salesman who threw the first punch inside the bar over some silly situation and forced us to defend ourselves came roaring out of the bar and threw a swing at one of the cops, confirming what we'd been trying to tell them - that he started the whole thing and we were just trying to defend ourselves and stay out of trouble.
They threw him in the wagon and told us to go home. So, we walked across the street to another bar, the tender of which had watched our first encounter through the window. When we ordered drafts at the bar, the bartender gave us the evil eye but served us. That lasted about 30 seconds when I saw a cockroach crawling across the bar and smashed it with the bottom of my glass, breaking the glass in the process. By the time I used it on the bug, my glass was empty. We were ejected. I left the bug squashed on the bar as sort of a tip.
We wandered back across the street to the bar next to the one we were first thrown out of where they too, had been keeping an eye on us. We ordered, I drank my draft down halfway just to be safe, and when my other buddy replied appropriately and loudly to the bartender who made some snide remark about our condition, the bouncers (Two of them. It was a big place. They were big too.) grabbed us and dragged us to the door. We wisely opted not to swing at them.
We decided that block was the pits and walked (sort of) down to a place called The One-Step Down Lounge, where they played a mixture of rock and jazz and sat at the bar which was ordinarly reserved for the hard core drinkers, tables being for college kids and booths for bikers.
I seem to recall making a pit stop in the middle of Washington Circle enroute to the last bar.
We actually got to stay there for a few rounds but the buddy who took the first swing from the brick salesman got into it with the bartender over Viet Nam and he threw us out.
Deciding that we were fast becoming pariahs on our own turf, we spied the Catholic church across the street and decided that was the only place in town that wouldn't eject us. That was back when churches kept their doors open 24/7 for the pious.
We found our way to the back where their large community kitchen had everything one needed to fix breakfast which I proceeded to do - eggs and bacon. About 10 minutes later, the pastor darted in and demanded to know what we thought we were doing. He was a good man, though. He let us finish our eggs and bacon before throwing us out.
We decided then to wander back to our host's dorm room at GW University where I slept it off on the floor. We awoke in the AM with 50 cents among the three of us to get back to school, many miles beyond DC. None of us had told our folks who all lived there that we were in town and going home for resources was not an option. None of us had cars either so we thumbed all the way back.
I'm sure glad I didn't have to call George from the DC lockup. That wouldn't have been the first time and I don't think I could have dodged his haymaker right in my diminished condition.
Wonderful memories of that night. Wish I could go back and do it all over again. This time, though, I would bring a can of Raid. |
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