Trashed on Tuesdays: An Exposé on Intelligent Thought and Hard Liquor

Bars just aren’t what they used to be. I long for the good old days of incoherent lifestyle-critiquing rhetoric: the kind of problem-dropping public speaking that can encompass everything from sports to politics to your wife’s mother, the kind of chatter that shows no mercy toward strangers on a barstool, the kind of oratory wit that gets exponentially more intelligent per scotch whiskey. Those were the days, my friends. Those were the days.

These days, a typical late night bar excursion climaxes with a conversation not unlike this: Authors note: To achieve the full effect, make sure to scream the following lines aloud over a combination of six competing television sets and bad karaoke.

“Where are you from?!?”

“What?!?”

“I said where are you from?!?”

“No…I don’t know this song!!!”

“That’s not what I said!!!”

“What?!?”

“What’s your…nevermind!”

“You don’t know my name???”

Back in the 1940s, working stiffs were heading to their favorite watering holes for hearty conversation and a local brew. As television became more prevalent, hearty conversation was replaced with uncomfortable silence, a drinking hierarchy, and far too much “shushing.” Caught in an era that I’m not exactly sure I belong in, it’s interesting to me that today, I seek out places that promote exchanges of witty banter. Lately, I sense that there’s an overwhelming feeling that one needs to go somewhere for a specific reason. A good sit-down chat has taken a backseat to thumping neon lighting or (God forbid) Wednesday night karaoke at the OP. Those 40s boys had it right. Good conversation and expression of ideas is what keeps people sane. That beings said, you point me to a hole in the wall bar or a coffee shop without the nuances of modern technology and you’ve got yourself a new loyal patron. It’s just like I always say, “I don’t need a skanky Eskimo bartender to have a good time.”