:: Books and Beer ::
There's this nice little bar over on Meridian that I like to go to called "X-treme Cafe." (Yeah, it's a horrible name; it sounds like a place where snowboarders and motorcrossers go to shotgun cans of Red Bull.) It's a beer and wine bar with dozens of beers, several of which even I haven't tried. (Also, the owner said he's going to change the name soon. He told me what it was but it was some foreign word that started with the letter "A" and I had enough trouble just saying it.) The inside is your typical dark, trendy furnishings, dance music turned up just a bit too loud, South Beach-ish type place but they have a front porch (it's a converted house) that's well lit so I can relax with my beer and enjoy a book.
I'm usually there when I have Friday nights off so I'm usually surrounded by yuppie/trendy-types who are either going to or just leaving some local club. One night literally every guy that was there was wearing a white dress shirt - untucked - with designer jeans and nice shoes. Then there's me with my gray, Monty Python "I Fart in your General Direction" T-shirt, cargo pants, and flip-flops.
And then there's the book. I suppose it's odd to see a guy reading a book at a bar (then again, it's odd to see a guy reading anything in this town). I say odd because I could be at some crappy dive bar with my laptop and no one asks me about that. Some of the more curious (inebriated) types usually ask me something along the lines of "why are you reading at a bar at midnight on a Friday?" My usual answer is "Starbucks closes at eleven and they don't serve beer."
Anyway, with the weather is cooling down, I'll probably be back there tonight and try out some of the stouts. And if I can manage to get my nose out of my book, maybe talk to a woman or two.