WANTED - Drinking Buddies
Recently, some of my favorite drinking buddies moved to San Francisco for a two year stint. Fuck me, I'm going to miss the 4:45 e-mails, saying "Hey, free for a drink?" or "I'm going to be in a bar in 15 minutes time...where are YOU gonna be?"
While I do frequently drink with some of my pals from the office, there's nothing quite like someone who was there 15 years ago, when you were learning how to shoot Bush Mills, or who was there when you saw Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds at a now-defunct Boston nightclub, or someone who got trolleyed with you and argued various plot devices and intricacies in the original Star Wars trilogy, or Harry Potter.
(Fuck off, I like Harry Potter. Call me a geek if you want, but that shit is FUN. And don't give me any shit about Star Wars either. That original trilogy was a big part of my childhood, and those recent film travesties or the current creepiness of Harrison Ford will not diminish my sense of nostalgia.)
Combine this loss with the loss of other drinking buddies who've moved out of the area or are otherwise not as available on short notice as they used to be... I'm bereft of barfly comrades and those fun, spontaneous booze fests. The spouse is a good, solid drinker, but let's face it, you want a good, solid crew, that is available on short notice, especially when the spouse is otherwise occupied, or out of town or something.
Therefore: Drinking buddies wanted. Must be available to hit any random Cambridge/Somerville/Boston/Watertown bar at ridiculously short notice, and at my whim. NO rednecks, Yankee fans, Bible-thumpers, meatheads, frat boys, women with "issues" need apply. Taste for a good Guinness pour helpful, but not necessary. Send applications to Charlie's, in Harvard Square...no, fuck it, just show up and buy me a goddamn drink.
6 Comments:
Where have you been all my life?!?
If only southern Mississippi and Boston were closer...
You know I read that and started to think, what if French and Country Gay left the big smoke, what if the Italians went home to sunnier climes, what if Tara decided to stop drinking. I"d just be left with some other folk, the pink haired harridan and the Paramour, or-eeeek-Etheline! (who in fairness can hold her gin like a fox)
Then I got all emotional and had to open a bottle of Rolling Rock-which is a lame beer but all I have in the fridge- to curb my tremors. Thank God tomorrow is Friday, and while I may not live near, I"m with you in spirit and I WILL be sending an email!
The loss of drinking friends who are up for it at a mommnets notice, can be akin to a bereavement. Non drinkers don't understand this.
I guess southwestern Connecticut is a bit too far. Bummer. I prefer Midleton to Bushmills, but we're on the same page as far as Guinness goes. Hell, I'm going to Ireland next month for a week's worth of good vitamin G. I've already seen most of the sights (not into all the touristy stuff anyway), so it's going to end up being a pub tour.
Oddly enough I just moved from San Francisco to Cambridge, drink a lot, and work for myself so have no scheduling restrictions...
Welcome to Boston, Josh.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE HAVE A WINNERRRRRRRRR!!!!!
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