As I moved across town, I was plagued with thoughts of ‘where will I get drunk now?’ and ‘who will take out my trash?’. But as I have lived on Magnolia for five days now I can easily answer those questions that so plagued me that initial drive. One, as I am learning, I can easily get drunk anywhere. And two, apparently I will take out the trash. Which blows.
When we moved in, the landlord said, “Don’t mind all the pan-handlers. I know them, It’s Little Joe and Waylan. Just keep telling them you don’t have any money. It took a couple years but they don’t even bother asking me anymore.” Well thats fantastic. Two dude, who probably make more money panhandling than I do at my real job, are going to be asking me for money for the next couple years.
But I’m getting off track. I was curious as to what would be my new “Shamrock”, which was my go-to dive by my old house, so we decided to test some places out.
We started at the Chat Room. Yes I have been here before and then I vowed never to return. But that says something about vows you make when you’re drunk. They’re stupid and pointless. I got riled up several years ago because the shot offerings of the day were (keep in mind I was looking to take shots which speaks to my frame of mind) a shot for Democrats, only $3 made with shittyshit, and shots for Republicans, at a less reasonable $12 made with fancy shit. I get it, I really do. But being the conservative Republican I am, albeit potty mouthed conservative Republican, I thought it was pretentious and placed my vow to the Gods never to return. So I went back last night.
Honestly, Glenlivet is Glenlivet, and tastes the same anywhere you go. But having it being served to you from a place that originated as a bar that you could go hang out with all your virtual friends makes it taste more interesting. I don’t remember if there were any pooters (i.e. computers to all you non techie idiots) inside but I made a mental note to look next time I go back. And if we are going to be saying truthful things, I will see you there tonight.
Post Chat Room, we went with the best idea at the time, which was tequila shots at Yukatan. The dude I live with and I have revolve our lives around walking everywhere. It was a major factor in deciding where to live; we have to be able to walk, get foods and drunk, and then be able to ‘walk’ home. As I aforementioned about Waylan, I truly don’t have the money to spend on something frivolous, like a DUI and such. So as we were leaving the Chat Room to head the TWO BLOCKS to Yukatan, the guy we were with wants to drive. That we would walk two blocks apparently was a concept he couldn’t conceptualize.
So we pile in the back of the suburban and make the 12 second drive.
How many flights of tequila do three people need? Two. How many aspirin do I need this morning? Five. It helps at 8am while listening to Little Joe and Waylan call each other bitches outside. I shit you not.
At least I haven’t been asked for money yet. I don’t fucking have any. Don’t bother.
SIDE NOTE: Actually the point, that I got out to bed to type, was that we ate at Temaki last night. And it was fucking amazing. Two things about it. One- I saw a woman, sitting with her two kids order an entire bottle of wine and slam it. Classic moves. Two- everything was amazing. Like spectacularly amazing. Freshly made in-house french macaroons with fresh strawberries have ruined me for all other macaroons. Even ones I ate in Paris aren’t this good. I forgot to take pictures but thats fine. I’m eating there every night for the rest of my life.
Temaki & Chat Room. Match made in Magnolia heaven.