You finally figure you'll give that newish place not too far away a whirl. The crowd there always seems dubious, but you want to remain openminded. And supportive of places in the neighborhood. Plus, the owners seem nice. You go in. The bar area is blissfully free of people. You get a drink. The bartender says that you look "really tired." Long day? Not until now.
Within two minutes, seven people walk in. On the left are the two fellows from France who don't understand the concept of personal space and start gesturing wildly and throwing elbows and doing "Borat" impressions. Then there is the couple who are still in that makeout-in-public-and-snuggle phase of the relationship. You've seen their type before. They're the reason people started saying "get a room."
Then there are the two women with the really big baby stroller. The stroller is parked, putting an end to anyone thinking of sitting in those five seats in the corner that you were eyeing. This is the youngest infant that you've ever seen outside of a hospital. Look at the baby! Look at the baby! There are photos. The bartender takes 10 to 12 photos for the women with the flash on. You are blinded. Your glass is empty. Look at the baby! Look at the baby!
You hear the fellows on your left talk about a party later and the United Nations. They are flirting with the bartender. She is flirting back. On the right, the couple is squeezing together and taking pictures of themselves. You're in a few of the shots. Your glass is still empty. You ask for the check. Oh, you're leaving already? you're asked.
