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& ur welcome.

fuck it. be a mess.

So last night I went to a bar. A bar that I’ve been meaning to go to for a while now. I suggested it to a tinder date and we agreed to meet up there after he got out of a Knicks game. But the thing is- it’s Monday at 10:15 pm. I think we both knew what was going to go down.


Now this bar is one of my really good friend’s “sitcom bar.” It’s the quintessential home base bar. It just didn’t sit right with me going to this bar for the first time without her. So since the guy and I were planning on meeting later, why not chill there with her before then.


We roll up to the bar and within the first 10 seconds her favorite bartender already passed her her go to tequila and grapefruit. This is her castle and the rest of us are mere peasants.


The bar passed my Chili’s test. The litmus test on whether a bar passes my vibe check is if it shares at least 2 characteristics with chili’s. This bar had sports playing and good fries so naturally it passed.


Quickly, the bartender and I became buddies. The dude was chill as fuck. He kept the whiskey sours going and found my tinderella stories amusing if not relatable. When the bartender was at the other side of the bar, my friend and I discussed everything under the sun.


Good conversations, so many cute beanie boys, a constant stream of whiskey sours, and fries rocketing into my mouth- this was a certified GOOOD TIME..


But— I looked at my phone and noticed it was 10:15. By then I was feeling all warm and cozy. Meeting this guy was not going to make any indent on my life at that point.


Caught up in a conversation, THE guy walked in. He sat a few seats away. My back was to him while my friend had a clear view. As we continued to talk, my friend was giving me subtle non verbal cues on whether he was hot or not.


By the time my curiosity got the best of me to turn around, he was gone. It was weird. I checked my phone and he texted me,

Here.

Can we meet at [redacted] bar instead.


Turns out the bartender, my newest best friend, kicked him out for being too drunk.

He also said he looked homeless and dirty. The type of guy that would try to get you to join his cutco business. The kind of guy who pounds red bulls casually and most likely smokes cigarettes at 9am. Think Timothee Chalamet mixed with Billy Bob Thorton all packaged into the Costco clothing section. We agreed that I could do better.


This is growth. A year ago, I would’ve ditched my friend and this bartender to fuck this alleged homeless man bun mustachio-d hipster. Instead, I lived my best life avoiding unwanted chaos and made a friend while strengthening my friendship. *high fives to me*

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